Men are so robotic in matters of sex
they seek the simple in what is complex
they work at the spot for only so long
before they need a coffee break
then after the pause for air, or for a muscle,
they look at you as if you are in the wrong
I do not know what is going on, I gave it my Max!
At which point you had enough and can't relax!
He proceeds with his duty, but not for long
You try to get him to be precise, there is a tussle
and unilaterally as if it were a natural reflex
he is now having his way "nice and hard"
You gave in to him, just as you have to pay tax
he is excited and reaches his balance score card
you unfortunately have nothing but a blank.
This is the man who tells his mates he can go for hours
as long as he remembers to buy her some cheap flowers
But in reality, he says over a beer, he prefers a quick w**k,
Such is his deep understanding of the feminine mystique
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