And so, the night begins its song,
As sleeping rods grow hard and long.
Moonlit skin commends the night,
Allowing rods and rings unite.
Tunes of pleasure fill the air,
As peace and quiet disappear.
Hardened rods fill dripping rings,
As lust begets its mighty wings.
Droplets form on glistening skin,
As friction feeds our gentle sin.
Tender flesh cushions my grasp,
As stiffened thrusts conjure a gasp.
And as the night reaches its end,
With no energy left to spend,
There we’ll lay in utter bliss,
Awaiting morning’s subtle kiss.