I feel compelled to write about sex/masturbation
I sit and write in the nude
To some this would appear
Both rude and very crude
Critics abound, I choose not to hear
There are no boundaries
In your birthday suit
All feels great
I oft fondle my male fruit
I love to flaunt
And do so with glee
Probably hoping
Some poor soul
Wants to see all of me
Minimal charge
Hell for free
A grab a stroke
Do touch like a feather
There is less to play with
In colder weather
I hate to see this
Sensation end
But as we speak
My juices blend
Life giving cream
Erupts from me
The very same hole
From which I pee
Gasping, panting, so am I
My essence still runs
One more throb
Juice on my thigh
So the cycle begins again
With you, I felt
I had to share
Don’t judge me, my friend