by Peter Loaf
Ten hours of driving, Heartland Express
Driving team stopping, our time to rest
No tracks in the drive
There’s no one alive
Me and my lover, cameraman guest
For sets we’re looking, houses and barns
A vid we’re shooting, abandoned farms
Internet earning
Inner need burning
Publicly fucking, sound my alarms
The piper paying, the bet i lost
His night for binding, His coin we tossed
Two headed half pence
my pussy’s expense
Night on the bottom, lovers star-crossed
Our fetish sharing, both of us switch
Some Top some bottom, for both we itch
Role playing fuckers
Mothers and Truckers
Tantric sex lovers, Wizard and Witch
Our only problem, I’m not quiet
Screaming my passion, don’t deny it
Truck stops too busy
Really no biggie
Abandoned farm structures, you ought try it
Our big rig parking, i get the line
Short walking distance, follow behind
The barn is rubble
The fields in stubble
i carry His rope, half out my mind
The silo standing, finger salute
The sky is open, my Master cute
The echoes within
We strip to the skin
Subbie submitting, root-ity toot
Hands bound before me, and elbows too
Big bag of sawdust, tying me to
my bottom His prize
The glow in my eyes
Bent and presenting, my heady brew
Slowly inserting, His pecker proud
Helpless in bundle, all things allowed
I’m serving His need
He’s building up speed
Our passion dance singing, the echoes loud
His smart phone sending, Moll Flanders inc.
Our antics paying, coming to brink
subbie lust rising
Pussy resizing
Fucking steam engine, missing my link
Thunderstorm crashing, bolt from the back
Redoubled effort, rocket attack
my love muscle grips
My subbie submits
Orgasmic “COMMMMMING!” things going black
Night in the silo, ten million hits
Ying and yang lovers, calling it quits
Our fortune off shore
But we’re getting sore
Tender and gentle, regaining wits
