With apologies to Bobby Goldsboro for the title.
Young was the spurting buck
that met you in the dark;
I spilt my seed between your thighs
That evening in the park.
Desire flamed within my loins,
I spurned the covered sheen.
We thrusted wildly on the grass
when you were just sixteen.
When next we met the sun was high.
I gloried in your tender kiss,
and once again I filled your womb;
repaid with lust your sweet caress.
Happy were we all the while
we spent upon the sand.
And though my love, you did beguile;
we'd made our final stand.
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