Hot Torrid Sex Poem by Don Juan Tenorio

Hot torrid sex in the afternoon,
With the a.c. broken in your motel room.
Banging away making holes in the wall,
On the edge of the bed threatening to fall.
Moaning and screaming to wake the dead,
But in the next room, they're listening instead.
How can they keep going, so long and so loud,
If I went a tenth of that, I'd be so proud.
It must be Don Juan in that motel bed,
If it was me I'd be snoring instead.
It's no use we'd better leave,
Cause listening to this, just gives me grief.
Wish I could make you scream that long,
Even fifteen minutes and I couldn't go wrong.

Don Juan Tenorio