As he did, she slid him back in her and prepared him for his messy finale. “I can taste myself. I wonder how we’re going to taste combined. You’...l soon find out”. “I’m close, honey”, he warned her. “Oh God. If I were you, I’d be scared with the load you’re about to shoot in me. If I had to eat your seven-day load, I’d be nervous, love. But I bet you like the idea of eating your massive load, don’t you? You’ve been working it up all week. It’s all for you”He did like the idea and to hear her. MASTURBATORY CELEBRANTSSome poems are too big for your head,Some too big for your cunt (or cock and ballsIf you are a man's man, instead of a girly girl).Such poems exhaust the mind and deplete the soul,But, in the ecstasy that ensues Oneness with poetry,We are the greater, not the less, blessed despite our distress;Poetry teaches us the meanings of the worlds within us,Which, otherwise, are lost or scornedBy masturbatory celebrants of their own sperm.(Even the most microscopicOf my poemsIs too. More

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