It ruts.
It ruts betweeen your legs.
Even on all fours his finger nails leave a deep mark.
The reminder of the beast that you crave in the dark.
In back up over it pours out his seed on your back.
Down the crack and without cares about that.
Little beasties growing inside that you suck.
And he squirts and he squirts deep into your mouth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem