If there was a feedee in my bed,
she would sleep late and then be fed.
Freshly baked cookies and milk,
my hands touching her skin of silk.
Cream, butter, syrup,
after that a big fry-up.
Kiss, treat, kiss,
all for you, miss.
Sinful feasts would follow,
Amor shooting us with an arrow.
Finally her last bite,
after that my first...
between her legs.
-
My second poem ever lol.
she would sleep late and then be fed.
Freshly baked cookies and milk,
my hands touching her skin of silk.
Cream, butter, syrup,
after that a big fry-up.
Kiss, treat, kiss,
all for you, miss.
Sinful feasts would follow,
Amor shooting us with an arrow.
Finally her last bite,
after that my first...
between her legs.
-
My second poem ever lol.
15 years