Cunt Ballads, No. 642 (Part III) by Paul Tristram

Her honeypot inkwell overfloweth,
as he licks his musky fuck-finger
and dips it back,
deeply inside her groove.
She sighs, stretches sideways
like a half-sleeping, purring cat
out in the warm Summer sunshine.
Squelches slightly, cutely,
as his fingertips slide gently
between parting pussy lips,
tingling across pubic bone
to the blank canvas
of playful arse cheek.
With delicate… glistening…
sticky movements…
he maps out sensual horizons,
diagrams pairing emotions,
the longitudes & latitudes of longing
and the scenic route
around to ‘X Marks The Spot’
With a smidgen of his own pre-cum,
he signs a moist declaration,
as her tantalized nerve-ends
fidget and jump uncontrollably.
And her skin pores absorb
this sweet tasting ‘Love Potion’
drawn from the Sex Magic
alchemized & caramelized by two.

paul smoking - Copy
Paul Tristram is a Welsh writer who has poems, short stories, sketches and photography published in many publications around the world, he yearns to tattoo porcelain bridesmaids instead of digging empty graves for innocence at midnight; this too may pass, yet. Buy his books ‘Scribblings Of A Madman’ (Lit Fest Press) ‘Poetry From The Nearest Barstool’ at And a split poetry book ‘The Raven And The Vagabond Heart’ with Bethany W Pope at You can also read his poems and stories here!

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