A short poem about my sweaty cock
by Rai Thomas
There he is all warm and sweaty,
Hanging limp like wet spaghetti,
Yet when pleasured he's like a rock,
Until he jizzes in a sock,
Alas then it happens all too soon,
That he shrivels like a prune,
Gone the soldier to attention,
Gone too the flesh extension,
There's nothing now but a wet sock,
All because of my sweaty cock.