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Poem
The missus pounded mine posterior...
causing percussive rumpus 
to vibrate like jelly

Me experienced quite disruptive sleep
(quite early in the morning 
of November 10th 2022 -
no shut eye could I keep),
hence though exhausted, I share
childlike trait of mine spouse
insufferable playfulness finds me
ready to collapse in a heap.

Missus as inquisitor a worse
fate than death expounded courtesy
the following cheeky verse 
about bearing derrière perverse 
antic for wife to adopt role of nurse
Ratched she of (One flew over 
the cuckoo's nest fame)
the missus every smack 
upon me posterior I did curse,
thus poem not for the faint of heart
some or all of material you may find averse.

Meanwhile good n plenty vibrations resonated
felt and heard round the world wide web
(strongest quaking sensations
occurred upon double mattresses atop bed
within apartment unit b44
2 Highland Manor Drive),

but woody d'ya believe
beating, drumming, flagellating
paddling, and whipping gluteus maximus
spurred surging aftershock tremors
launched rocketed tubular willy
(property yours truly).

Imagine slap happy spouse
ain't misbehavin
just being her playful
(think cheeky) self
knick knack paddy whacking

undeservedly thrashing,
pummeling, beating
the living daylights
buttucks long past their prime
formerly cute palm pilot tushy,

now subjected courtesy
cruel aging process
wrought ugly human cellulite,
nevertheless I made
feeble attempts to rear up in protest

against asinine wifely antics,
while she obviously disregarded
feebly wailing for nought
me lamely uttering
friggin bloody murder in vain.

Zee spouse ain't no sadomasochist,
she just thrills
treating gluteus maximus (mine)
as a plaything

(think cat toying with mouse)
thwacking me fleshy behind
until derriere belonging to yours truly
feels comfortably numb.

Thee aforementioned shenanigans
predominantly arise, when
wedded counterpart owns advantage,
whereby I eagerly welcome shut eye

lo and behold only to experience
mine hinny quickly getting smacked
after I barely shuttered these tired eyelids
sneaking couple winks.

What recently began as
whimsical spur of
kickstarting moment
ushering tactile kibitizing
suddenly became nightly ritual,
whereby this humble husband
meekly surrenders bare bottom

(actually partner with skewed enjoyment
at my expense)
pulls off outer clothes
plus underpants (elasticity
long since stretched out)
wallopping me bum
until flesh heavily 
spindled, mutilated, lacerated, 
fondled and bruised.
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