Jaded pansexuals fraternize  
The frequency of male specimen divulging toothsome threats of I TOLD YOU SO'S, turning insides gelatin.  
Poking the back of belly button.  
In between thighs tryna find a better life.  
Let me house your emotive creature.  
My sensitive geyser scandalously caramelizing your guiding influence in sate. The deja vu of accismus in the mischievous glint of my third eye.  
Wrapped both in and out of twisted white linens.  
The pungency of your Satyrs slept on my pucker.  
With the rise and fall of lung, a new me was sculpted.  
And as we recover the sound of objectivity, the answer to desire's impudent inquisition escapes pursed lip.  
Nematode wiggling in the spunk of twat.  
The north and south of your tactile pillar mingling in my seismic oviduct.  
Frigging cohesion.  
Narcotic befuddling senses.  
Your gynecological obligation was the plight of your RAW talent exciting all 8,000 of my nerve endings.  
An Olympic game of exemplary conduct.  
The docil gadget in the sashay of my swaying disports of femme fatal.  
Passing the traits of my kind, in our homeostatic rendezvous.  
You wallowed in the soliloquy of pubococcygeus.  
I loved you on purpose, without probable cause.  
Entrepreneurial ultimatum.  
This is.  
Grown folks bidness.