Thick red lips moving up and down

On a hard throbbing erection

Sternly querying eyes seem to wonder

When are you going to shoot?

You can only softly whisper:

“I’m sorry, mom, but not yet.”

Her head starts bouncing faster

The rhythm stays steady

Your mother is staring at you

But it still isn’t the time

Whenever you will fire

Your mother will be ready

Don’t you worry at all

She will swallow it too

Mom has always known it

Never forgotten granny’s wisdom

Nothing helps sleep better

Than a goodnight blowjob