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Dad stepped around the edge of the bushes into the grotto and sat down. Her back was to him but she must have felt the bench move with his weight upon it. Startled, her hair tossed as if a breeze had suddenly blown it, and her eyes met his. Dad smiled and quickly apologized for scaring her. She smiled back, looking down quickly, and said she thought she was alone. She started to pick up her lunchbox and move, but Dad placed his hand on her shoulder lightly telling her she did not have to move, he merely needed to rest a few moments before returning to work.His fingertips reached out and brushed her hair back from her face letting them graze her earlobes smiling at her bright blue eyes. The blush quickly rose in her cheeks at his touch and as she swiveled around to face him, her knee knocked the lunchbox off onto the ground spilling the contents everywhere. Dad moved quickly trying to catch it before it hit the ground. His arm managed to brush against her breasts as she leaned forward. THE BLOOM ON THE ROSEThe sky at sunriseAnd sundownBlushes like my cheeks,Pink with promiseThe way my buttocks areAfter they've been spanked.BLASPHEMOUS PRAISEA dome may rivalThese man-made tits of mine,From time to time,But nothing in nature can,For my breasts were madeNot by God, but man.LOVE BITESI lie motionlessWith practiced patience,Awaiting the stingOf the fleabiteUpon my bottomOr my ballsOr anywhere at allThe flea is pleasedTo pleasure me.FEMALE MIMICRYWomen are too beautiful to bear,With their long, coiffed hairAnd not just a single, sleek breast,But two, to bewitch, and the restOf their lovely, feminine charmsLeave my head ringing with alarms.Men, if they're honest, must admitThey're intimidated by a tit,A twat, or a tush that's full and soft,Even if their stiff cocks stand aloft.I fear women, but find them allToo lovely simply to wallOff from my life, so I became,As much as I could, the sameAs they, wearing hair that's styledAnd clothes lovely, if wild,And grew full, firm,.
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