Prating Matador: Tale of Two Tails

In ye old days of yore on Malaga's dreary shore An untidy castle rimmed by salty moor Housed a lonely, oft-drunk matador In briny marsh grazed no sheep, but wild pigs three score Staggering oft around soggy, muddy estate in boozed, dazed state; prating conquistador With fitted bed sheet he dodged each, wild, voracious boar On one fateful eve a rabid boar did his flabby posterior gore Now ambitions stored, bedded his dreams, salved his sore  'Til one morn, a damsel in distress swooned at his door Bereft of virility, but saddled with tales of chivalric lore A hearty tonic the prone maiden he did pore, and spouted tawdry tales galore Unentranced by availing circumstance, his rambling advances she did ignore Intoxicated by her lovely essence, her father's residence did implore Confounded by his incessant inebriating pleas, she fell to the floor Mistaking her bended knee as fealty to be, he let out a drunken roar Enraged by his licentious intentions, she yelled, I will not take any more Mind numbed from numerous droughts, he heard, I am your whore Giddy, his infertile, limp shaft tried into her sweet mound to bore But his drooping shaft could not breach her silty core Frustrated the horny goad reversed positions. riding her till both were saddlesore Finally breaching the chasm, his spent rod found reeling a chore But her tapped well gushed and she yelled encore Now understanding his riding days were over, he cried and swore His ripening virgin unsatiated bade his pallid pilot her canyon explore Now contrite, he explained fertile streams no longer from stagnant fount could pore Giving due penance, purged the dross, and from her steamy vat tore Forevermore an unfit paramour, jilted matador; who no longer his tainted cape wore