The missus pounded mine posterior...

causing percussive rumpus
to vibrate like jelly

Me experienced quite disruptive sleep
(quite early in the morning
of November 10^th 2022 -
no shut eye could I keep),

hence though exhausted, I share
childlike trait of mine spouse
insufferable playfulness finds me
ready to collapse in a heap.

 

Missus as inquisitor a worse

fate than death expounded courtesy

the following cheeky verse

about bearing derrière perverse

antic for wife to adopt role of nurse
Ratched she of (One flew over
the cuckoo's nest fame)

the missus every smack
upon me posterior I did curse,

thus poem not for the faint of heart
some or all of material you may find averse.

 

Meanwhile good n plenty vibrations resonated

felt and heard round the world wide web
(strongest quaking sensations

occurred upon double mattresses atop bed

within apartment unit b44
2 Highland Manor Drive),

 

but woody d'ya believe

beating, drumming, flagellating
paddling, and whipping gluteus maximus

spurred surging aftershock tremors

launched rocketed tubular willy
(property yours truly).

 

Imagine slap happy spouse

ain't misbehavin

just being her playful
(think cheeky) self

knick knack paddy whacking

 

undeservedly thrashing,
pummeling, beating
the living daylights
buttucks long past their prime
formerly cute palm pilot tushy,

 

now subjected courtesy
cruel aging process
wrought ugly human cellulite,
nevertheless I made

feeble attempts to rear up in protest

 

against asinine wifely antics,

while she obviously disregarded

feebly wailing for nought
me lamely uttering
friggin bloody murder in vain.

 

Zee spouse ain't no sadomasochist,

she just thrills
treating gluteus maximus (mine)

as a plaything

 

(think cat toying with mouse)

thwacking me fleshy behind

until derriere belonging to yours truly
feels comfortably numb.

Thee aforementioned shenanigans

predominantly arise, when

wedded counterpart owns advantage,

whereby I eagerly welcome shut eye

lo and behold only to experience
mine hinny quickly getting smacked

after I barely shuttered these tired eyelids
sneaking couple winks.

 

What recently began as

whimsical spur of
kickstarting moment
ushering tactile kibitizing

suddenly became nightly ritual,
whereby this humble husband

meekly surrenders bare bottom

 

(actually partner with skewed enjoyment

at my expense)
pulls off outer clothes
plus underpants (elasticity

long since stretched out)

wallopping me bum

until flesh heavily
spindled, mutilated, lacerated,

fondled and bruised.