Those feelings stirring inside of you are lust for me.
You might mistake it for diarrhea, but you’d be wrong.
I will even bring you Pepto-Bismol if you are afraid. I will administer the dose in a fine silver spoon, which I will polish for hours.
Only in your dreams have you had me, baby. But in your dreams you can’t get enough. All you want to do is sleep, but that keeps you away from the real me.
You even love my miniscule penis.
You buck against your pillow, dreaming of me.
Don’t hide from it baby. You want me freaky-style. And I will give myself to you like you want me.
I will submit to your desires. If you want to eat cheetos out of my navel, your wish will be granted.
Should you request me to rub garlic on my chest and sit in a sauna, I will comply to make you happy.
Yes, should you require me to cover myself in velveeta shells and cheese and let a goat eat the packaging while you use cocktail silverware to sample each individual shell, I will do it.