Octopus

would, that there were four of me the ways that I could pleasure thee each tentacle to tender tickle fancied freckles, firm or fickle one all-at-once massage, divine - all hands on deck, in grand design perceptive palms with petting jives could raise a rash of ‘rotic hives oh, goosebumps of the finest kind quadrupled thus to blow your mind four tens of fingers, fixed just SO to warm the embers down below mass touches placed with dermal love bear moans from zones rare spoken of pray how could one but NOT adore a mate like me, (and mine) … times FOUR?!? Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden, March 16, 2023