- Erotic Poetry
- O Mother Dear (Part VII Kent)
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Participants are all 18+ years old. You have met them before and hummed "America The Beautiful" to their activity.
Upon Kent's twentieth birthday
Cherry and Pearl each showed
Signs they were in a family way
From seeds that we had sowed.
O Sisters, Dear! O Sisters, Dear!
We all of us were glad,
Though it was true, that no one knew
Just which of us was "Dad!"
Remember we tried to inspect
Your cunts for any clue?
How closely were your pussies checked
From every point of view!
O Sisters, Dear! O Sisters, Dear!
You may have thought us lame
But you enjoyed the way we toyed
With you until you came!
In fact, you turned the tables 'round
On me and Kent that day.
As you looked for what might be found
In your own special way.
O Sisters, Dear! O Sisters, Dear!
We did not laugh at you.
As you took stock by sucking cock
Our admiration grew!
We then agreed it mattered not
Just who was got by whom.
It only counted you were got
And your flowers would bloom!
O Sisters, Dear! O Sisters, Dear!
We'd have our answers soon.
In half a year it would be clear
Whose sperm won out last June!
How lustily we carried on
Through early motherhood.
Our favorite time was nigh to dawn,
You loved our morning wood!
O Sisters, Dear! O Sisters, Dear!
How cleverly you'd swap!
You'd alternate until our state
Was such you thought we'd pop!
Then each of you would pick a stalk,
As we lay in a daze,
Your settled haunches then would rock
And oh so slightly raise!
O Sisters, Dear! O Sisters, Dear!
As we sucked on your breasts,
Your pussies seized our cocks and teased
Them 'til we filled your nests!
But in late term we banked our fires
As instinct ruled our hearts.
We found that our carnal desires
gave way to finer arts.
O Sisters, Dear! O Sisters, Dear!
An afternoon's delight
was just a rub while in a tub
And we would spoon all night!
A burdened stork brought joyful cries:
Three bundles in one week!
Cherry's twin girls had Kent's grey eyes.
Pearl's son? My widow's peak!
O Sisters, Dear! O Sisters, Dear!
There's new growth on the larch,
And here are we, with babies three,
Born at the Ides of March!
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