The devil’s boner
I had a red-eye from the kick and start pills I used,
coupled with a red hot bonner.
It was half past six and I had gone 6 rounds,
lubricants from my last condom drained out.
I was never going to go in for the seventh,
I never chased perfection.
It was mission accomplished “just lay with her”, were the instructions.
But she craved more,
She kept screaming deeper even when I wasn’t digging her.
Her nails drilled holes in my back.
Dr-do-little wanted more,
So I said it wouldn’t be bad if I made it oddly-even, since it was round seven.
‘Finish her’ I remembered mortal combat.
So I pulled in without ‘durex’ in a state of duress.
It felt so nice,
The kind of nice that could make you think Santa always delivers.
Hotter than before,
but I did not care prolly about the quote “hell hath no furry like a woman”.
And then the devil whispered “change your style, so you don’t get HIV”.
Uhh! My mind exclaimed.
“Do you have HIV?”
“Yeah baby, ye-eee-ah, yeah baby” I wasn’t sure, if she was replying my question or moaning.
So I pulled out,
But it was too late something had pulled up on me.
I forgot HIV had AIDS for movement.