>>720065085
In shadowed corners, Hornet spins her web,
A leering tease among the bugs’ soft bed.
With silken whispers and a sultry stare,
She charms and chases, no one’s quite aware.
A master of mischief, in passions she dives,
Entwined in licentious, clandestine lives.
Each fluttering wing and trembling thread,
Tells of secrets spun and pleasures fed.
Oh, Hornet’s game, so daring, so sly,
Bugs beware, for she’s the roving spy.
In every corner, a tempting snare,
A web of desire, spun with flair.
What she does, her business that is,
Is one I shan't know, mere bug that I be,
And so I pray, again and again,
That we bed today,
tomorrow and atine.
For there today, I spot her entwined,
with bugs of bulges, black and white,
and sultry moans exscind my life,
how I long to kiss those roasty webs,
those semen filled,
those delicate nets.
Hornet my dear,
what you do is none of my business,
but all the same,
let this little bug enjoin it!
