back in the
flower of manhood I thrilled to a strangers touch I was easily aroused a look could be enough fidelity did not appeal to me it could only get in the way I’ve been called a dirty dog but I’m a dog whose had his day
I don’t miss
the one night stands it’s cruel and
selfish game I was lost in promiscuous
regions I loved to screw around and I wasn’t taking names the wicked require love too and they’re so much better at it they
say experience counts I couldn’t possibly comment
meanwhile; back
in my gymnasium we coupled in the
dance of shame and with satiated
lust the cycle began again there was little purpose to it but it was too delicious to refuse the Saturday night excitement the Sunday morning blues
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