Half-Pint Chuckle - Sex Stories

Half-Pint Chuckle

Timber of the ember lay like ash As frost of insomnia freeze my darkness Up to my writing stick feather of the fowl Tobacco in the bowl of my pipe chilling Hearken of spirits comfort my bones Like a succubus sucking my breath Nimble fingers stroking my member Crinkle of her pucker seducing me Casting shadows on my bleariness An omen near my penis quake Swooshing out matter of dribble And spittle of semen-cum Hiss of her kiss sipping my taste Cold moon rising the loon of the lake Yodel its mate as mist cover my awake Simmering in my sensual cauldron Swooning in my half-pint chuckle Wrinkling meat my wilting scuttle Like an empty pen my cock blown Timber of the ember lay like ash