They Leave With Joy
To Santa Clara Street
My friend and I have gone
To offer our penises
For the girls in the brothel house
To take them and feed them.
The matchmaker Celestina
Who opened the door for us
Is called Plasencia de la Olla
Who gave a commanding voice:
-Girls, come to the living room!
They come skipping with joy
Girls who have started university
Bringing hope to our penises
Laden with anxiety.
We have chosen the two who walk best
And can tell they are hungry for men
Leaving the other three out.
Behind those two
We have reached the beds.
They have opened them
Showing us their fresh cunts
Telling us:
-These penises of yours
Are a very good thing
For they greatly adorn our lower bellies.
Now, naked, we’ve pulled down
Their panties with our penises
One pink, the other red
Both slightly stained.
They’ve taken our penises by the hand
Not knowing where they’re leading them.
They weren’t mistaken!
Because they’ve taken a quarter of our penises
Into their open vaginas.
An excellent radiance
We saw enter through the large and small lips
To the heaven of their vaginas
We enjoying eternal glory.
I don’t know about them.
We didn’t look at them.
When we finished ejaculating
And Celestina finished cleaning us
With a dish sponge
She took us to the door saying:
-The whores need you to love.
Give them love, give them lots of love.
The whores need you to love.
In their cunts your freedom grows.
Horror Sleaze Trash 