Magic Wood

I lay my hands,
On the soft pine furniture,
So smooth, so delicate.
He's about to take away the pure.
As he shoves himself in my butt.

Oh, ah, soft moans.
Against the wood,
I like to groan.
Oh, ah, soft gasps.
As on my hips,
He firmly grasps.

Thrusting deeply,
into the night,
when he reaches his peak,
he has a fright,
and begins to leak.

Oh, ah, soft moans.
Against the wood,
I like to groan.
Oh, ah, soft gasps.
As on my hips,
He firmly grasps.