As I sit here sick and twisted
I dream of being anal fisted
By a man with hairy fingers
As he gives me cunnilingus.
He'll stick his fist right up my cranny
And make sweet juice gush from my fanny.
He'll ram it harder up my bum
Until the brown juice starts to run.
Then he'll use both hands simultaneously
And I'll scream as this will hurt quite copiously,
But after a while my sphincter will be fine
And then I'll be able to fit ten fists up there at a time.
Oh how my sunny face will beam
As I'm fisted by a rugby team . . .
I'm going to have to stop this here,
As this poem's really badly giving me the fear.