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By John Tustin
I cannot love,
You cannot commit.
Let us be
Of use to each other.
I’ll tongue,
You’ll suck
And your legs will quake;
My cum will shoot down your throat.
A little later
There will be an embrace in the doorway
Before you get into your car
And leave with a small wave goodbye:
My jizz resting in your belly
And the memory of your quiver on my cheeks.