His cock is like an obelisk,
Tall and hard like stone.
It rises up towards the sky,
A pillar all alone.

His cock is like a mighty tree,
His pubic hair the grass,
The fruit hangs strangely down below,
Just above his ass.

But there is no perfect simile,
For my man's mighty cock,
All that really matters,
Is that it gets as hard as rock.

It sometimes feels just like a drill,
As he drives it up my bum.
Other times it's like a bottle,
From which I drink his cum.

I suppose it doesn't matter,
How I think of my man's thing.
In the end it really satisfies,
And I feel like he's my king.