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The Michael Lassell Pantoum
(A fantasy)
 
I want to blow him off and eventually I will.
Unzip his pants beneath the desk
He writes poems on.
Stroke the pinkest meat
 
From his unzipped jeans beneath the desk.
Put my tongue to his mushroomed-head
As I continue to stroke his uncut meat,
his legs resting gloriously upon my shoulders
 
as I fondle the silken hairs on his head,
I reach beneath him and plug his poetic butt 
While his legs are balanced on my shoulders.
Can feel his tender prostate. 
 
I reach beneath him and plug his poetic butt
Touching his sweet A-spot,
The tender prostate.
I want to suck your dick.
 
Touch his sweet A-spot,
As I rim his asshole
And suck his dick,
I want to see the face he makes when he comes
 
As I rim his asshole 
under the designer bed sheets,
I want to see the face he makes when he’s about to come
All over my chest.
 
Under the JCPenney sheets,
Is a naughty little tart
Who is about to come all over my chest.
I think this is love.

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