Anyway, here it is:'Twas on a groovy vase's side, Where psychedelic art had dyedThe fucking flowers that blow;Demurest of the tabby kind, The huffish ...ylan reclined, Gazed on the lake below.Of course, it's not finished yet. But it's about our cat, Dylan, who died last year back in Reigate. And Bill said you've always got to get the word 'fuck' into a poem somehow. That way people know you're serious about your art.Tuesday, August 29Bill phoned. He won't be here till tomorrow. He and Sam were. His eyes glazed over and he started to pant, "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, I'm going to cum again!"With that, he exploded a second time, his cum flying all over the two of us. Watching him shoot off and seeing his thick daddy cum all over excited me and I started spewing my second load, but I came on both of us. With that, we both started to soften.We started licking each other clean, savoring our cum again. Once we were clean, we pulled our clothes on. He smiled at me, "Thanks, k**. I really. More

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