Warm melted puttyOr cold dried wrinkled peaches.Balls. So dynamic.
Dreams of a cool breezeTaunt, tempt me, I fantasizeBut skirts aren’t for men.
Sticking to my legMakes me notice you, it’s true,But it isn’t nice.
A wrinkled old manSits neath a tall, proud soldier:Soldier bound to fall…
For sensitive skinRemoval cream is a thing.Victory is ours
I like smoothness, but
Shaving is too dangerous.
We will find a way.
Sit watching TVHand in my pants. Don’t worry:Just cupping the boys
It is comfortingKnowing you are there alwaysEverpresent bulge.
I would like to thinkThe reason there are two isOne would be lonely.
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