ODE TO FUCKING

I don't ask much from you, honey,

but I do ask one thing: Fuck me!

I want to fuck twice a day,

headaches and periods unacceptable excuses.

Swallow a gallon of sperm

and your headache will disappear.

Nothing excites me more

than you spread-legged

with blood pouring from your cunt.

Nothing delights me more

than coming inside you when you're on the rag

and licking your pussy afterwards.

As your husband, I have special privileges.

That's the beauty of marriage.

You can burp, fart and suck

on each other's dirty genitals.

But goddammit, all shit aside, fuck me!

When we first embarked on our journey together,

we started and ended each day with a fuck.

We were never closer.

We need to get a punch card and keep track:

Ten fucks a week if we're going to keep this marriage hot.

And don't give me that quality crap.

Only quantity counts.

If you're fucking non-stop,

there's bound to be quality.

I fell in love with you

because I couldn't resist

your hairy, juicy, incandescent pussy.

I desire it more than ever.

This is not a threat,

but if our survival as a couple

ranks at the top of your priority list,

then you need to fuck me more.

Life is too short to accept less.