The devil’s boner

I had a red-eye from the kick and start pills I used, 

coupled with a red hot bonner.

It was half past six and I had gone 6 rounds, 

lubricants from my last condom drained out.

I was never going to go in for the seventh,

I never chased perfection.

It was mission accomplished “just lay with her”, were the instructions.

 

But she craved more, 

She kept screaming deeper even when I wasn’t digging her.

Her nails drilled holes in my back.

Dr-do-little wanted more, 

So I said it wouldn’t be bad if I made it oddly-even, since it was round seven.

‘Finish her’ I remembered mortal combat.

 

So I pulled in without ‘durex’ in a state of duress.

It felt so nice, 

The kind of nice that could make you think Santa always delivers.

Hotter than before,

but I did not care prolly about the quote “hell hath no furry like a woman”.

And then the devil whispered “change your style, so you don’t get HIV”.

Uhh! My mind exclaimed.

“Do you have HIV?”

“Yeah baby, ye-eee-ah, yeah baby” I wasn’t sure, if she was replying my question or moaning.

So I pulled out, 

But it was too late something had pulled up on me.

I forgot HIV had AIDS for movement.

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