She sat astride me, naked and sweaty, at my behest
With her tumbling raven locks and saggy old breasts
And she mocked me, with a cackle, enough to belittle
As I watched her lips drip, with her sour witch's spittle
But I couldn't resist the touch, of her cold, flaccid, flesh
Or her abundant, brittle thatch, like a woven wire mesh
For my need was afire, although she'd chosen, to choke
With her, livery, skeletal hands, compressing my throat
It was far too late, to escape, from her vice like thighs
I felt my tongue swelling, as was, the bulge of my rise
I tried to desist, but I couldn't repel, her malevolent will
And under, a sorceresses spell, I would inevitably, spill
I was fading fast, so I tried to inhale, or just taste the air
But she squeezed, even harder, demanding, that I share
I was trapped, with her astride, I was helpless, beneath
As her putrefied breath fell, through the rot of her teeth
The ecstasy was agonizing, but her throttling, did wane
As I, fulfilled, our salaciousness and with acidity, came
And we gasped, with mutual relief, for passion is fickle
Before she cackled and loosed, her sour witch's spittle
