My face is shoved in pillows that are ripe
The scent of him so drives my ass up higher
To meet the thrusts he shoves me on his pipe
And sweat that drops, unable to quench the fire.
He grunts and moans the expletives flowing
I scream and growl — oh so degenerate
And feel the heat the sets me a-glowing
With no care of how tomorrow I’ll sit.
We climb we climb up higher to the edge
He claws and growls — what is it blood or sweat?
No care is places as we jump over the ledge
Ending so sticky, exhausted and wet.
He collapses atop what’s left of me
To think that at last I’m finally free.
— a first attempt at a dirty Shakespearean sonnet.