Saluki Hot Box

Christopher smoked a rolled cigarette

As he walked across the cold, dark yard.

To the medical building to meet Taylor for a study session.

She was one of those girls who showed the print of her box.

She smiled "Hi" and her bow legs made Christopher's mind race with fantasies.

He always loved the intelligent curve that her ass made in tight denim.

She had one of those asses that filled Guess denim

She was like a fat reefer cigarette

Or maybe a graphic sexual fantasy

The hottest piece on the Saluki's yard.

In bed she popped it, her hot, gushy box.

She flexed that muscle during intense blue sessions.

Or maybe I should say intense sex sessions.

Christopher pulled her close and unzipped her denim.

He moved his hand slowly and fingered her box.

Then took the wetness and rolled a left handed cigarette.

This was the best bud on the yard.

It distorted reality and made life a colorful fantasy

Of feelings and smells that fed blue fantasies

During 40 oz and skunk ism sessions

Taylor was the freak of the yard

When she bent over and took off her form fitted denim

Christopher took another hit of the tight rolled cigarette

That was flavored with musk from her dripping box.

Intensely feminine was the stink of her box.

Taylor was a honey brown fantasy

Like a dime bag cigarette

She made Christophers toes spread during every blue session.

After he made her so hot that she soaked her denim

She was so loud that you could hear her all over the yard.

Several boys tapped her across that yard.

They often bragged about the taste of her box

When they sat around hitting bud cigarettes.

She wondered why she was every man's fantasy

And they called her when they wanted a carnal session

They asked her to wear her tight, black Guess denim.

To their trailers in her denim she lived male fantasies

on the party yard. With her box, she controlled male fantasies