Down Her Backbone by M.A.Meddings
A yellow silk sheathWith naught underneath
Did serve as a dress
And act to caress
Her most enchanting parts
And she had the knack
To reveal her soft back
Where the absence of gown
Ran the eye down
The wonderful track of her spine
I might ply her with Wine
If she has the time
Or a measure of gin
I can think of some sin
With a skin melted Ice cube
Run down her spine
and thus make her mine
Oh! think of the thrill
Just testing her will
to resist me
There is nothing wrong
Just running the tongue
With a soft gentle touch
nothing too much
Down her backbone
Well dont think I am rude
I am certainly no prude
The feelings are live
Do you think she'll survive
The touch of my tongue
Down her back bone
Poetry by lastromantichero
Read 740 times
Written on 2006-07-22 at 12:06
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