Pitbull Poetry & Prose

Principessa

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OMG! :eek: That is sooo sick and twisted.
Shame on you, you have defiled a Rodgers and Hammerstein classic. . . I LOVE It! :biggrin1:
 

Pitbull

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OMG! :eek: That is sooo sick and twisted.
Shame on you, you have defiled a Rodgers and Hammerstein classic. . . I LOVE It! :biggrin1:

More shame
More defiling

This time an American classic poem.

Springtime and a young man's fancy turns to

BASEBALL
AND
SEX
and what better sex than a blowjob?

take an American classic poem about baseball and stripped down use a a scaffold for what should be an American classic poem about a blowjob.

First the disclaimer -
My poem does not refer to the LPSG member Stacy

Then the original poem to refresh your memory and so you can see how I skillfully crafted my new version which is in the next post on this thread

Casey at the Bat

A Ballad of the Republic, Sung in the Year 1888

by Ernest Lawrence Thayer

The outlook wasn’t brilliant for the Mudville nine that day;
The score stood four to two with but one inning more to play.
And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,
A sickly silence fell upon the patrons of the game.

A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest
Clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought if only Casey could but get a whack at that—
We’d put up even money now with Casey at the bat.

But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake,
And the former was a lulu and the latter was a cake;
So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat,
For there seemed but little chance of Casey’s getting to the bat.

But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,
And Blake, the much despised, tore the cover off the ball;
And when the dust had lifted, and men saw what had occurred,
There was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third.

Then from 5,000 throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;
It knocked upon the mountain and recoiled upon the flat,
For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.

There was ease in Casey’s manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in Casey’s bearing and a smile on Casey’s face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt ’twas Casey at the bat.

Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt;
Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt.
Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance gleamed in Casey’s eye, a sneer curled Casey’s lip.

And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped—
“That ain’t my style,” said Casey. “Strike one,” the umpire said.

From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore.
“Kill him! Kill the umpire!” shouted some one on the stand;
And it’s likely they’d have killed him had not Casey raised his hand.

With a smile of Christian charity great Casey’s visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the spheroid flew;
But Casey still ignored it, and the umpire said, “Strike two.”

“Fraud!” cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered fraud;
But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that Casey wouldn’t let that ball go by again.

The sneer is gone from Casey’s lip, his teeth are clinched in hate;
He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate.
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey’s blow.

Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;
But there is no joy in Mudville—mighty Casey has struck out.
 

Pitbull

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Stacey at My Bat


A Ballad of Fellatio
By Pitbull


My outlook wasn't brilliant it was past nine that day:
If I could not score soon, with myself I’d have to play,
Not a pick up artist, should just drive home in my car.
A pall-like silence, place is dead, maybe try another bar.

Another night in deep despair. I should go home get some rest
Then I saw tightest blouse clinging to some bouncy heavenly breast.
I thought, "If only I could get lucky and get a whack at that” —
She walked toward me and smiled, purring like a cat.

Her name it was Stacey, and some small talk did we make
Kept staring at her tits. My God, they’re real, not fake!
I tried to be charming over drinks as in the bar we sat,
For there seemed but little chance of getting Stacey to my bat.

She said “Drive me home now”. And as I walked her down the hall,
She grabbed me and kissed me, pushed my body up against the wall.
As she walked toward her bedroom could not believe what occurred,
Then she motioned to me to follow without saying a single word.

She whispered in my ear “I would love to throats your cock.”
In a second my disbelieving penis was harder than a rock!
She pushed me on the bed; on my back I was lying flat,
For Stacey, sexy Stacey was advancing to my bat.

There was ease in Stacey's manner as for I was at her place;
“Time to ride” said Stacey cheerfully and she sat upon my face.
And when, responding to my fears, on the bed she lightly sat,
Lucky, lucky me without a doubt for 'twas Stacey at my bat.

My eyes were on her as she rubbed her hands over my dick;
Feeling her tongue from base to tip with the slowest lick;
Writhing on her bed she slowly ground my balls into her lips,
My life flashed before me. Oh my! She grasped my thrusting hips.

She sucked as if possessed; it seemed not needing air,
Watching Stacey’s tits bouncing, she has a most perfect pair
Suck the tip, lick the balls such style, incredible head!
This is a blowjob for the ages. It would resurrect the dead.

Her head went down my entire shaft; my feet went up off the floor,
Stimulating my meat in rhythmic waves electrified me to my core;
"Don’t stop! I’m on fire!" I shouted now unable to stand;
Thought likely I’d pass out as Stacey gripped my bat with her hand.

With a smile as she sucked me, great Stacey's talent shone;
She stilled the rising jism; she skillfully massaged my bone;
I signaled I was cumming, entering the stratosphere as she blew;
But Stacey still ignored me, her tongue it felt like two!

The feeling most indescribable, sheets and mattress I clawed
One look at Stacey effortless deepthroating, I was truly awed.
She saw my face look stiff, I groaned, she saw my penis strain,
Stacey licked and sucked my balls my expression seemed like pain.

My cock is gone past Stacey's lips, my heart so fast did race,
She pounds her throat with my bat, ecstasy to fuck her face;
I cannot hold back any more, I must now let it go,
The forceful eruption of jizz, the result of Stacey's blow.

Face, body, throat and mouth, Stacey is a most amazing miss
I cannot think, my brain is numb suspended in a coma of bliss
T
he best blowjob of my life there cannot be a single doubt
I cannot move, Oh Stacey! All my juices you have sucked out.
 
Last edited:

DiscoBoy

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Very erotic :eek:!

That poem was quite enjoyable and I respect your ability to keep with the rhyming scheme.
 

Sassy

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Pitbull’s the master at poetry
Pitbull’s the master at prose
Women who love PB use jelly
He’s just too big, I suppose!


(Just a little homage to the master.):notworthy:

Love your poem, Pitbull. Dare I hope there's a part 2??
 

D_Fiona_Farvel

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Once again, great poem, PB!
I've always loved Casey at the Bat, but your twisting it into Stacey at My Bat: A Ballad of Fellatio, was a completely unexpected, but sexy and fun turn.

Can't wait to read more. :smile:
 

Pitbull

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A little something
Popped into my head
in response to this little back and forth in another thread
with Honey 123 whose signature line reads
"It's YOUR erection, own it."

Why are men the only ones that get massages with happy endings?

:tongue: Funny
I know that according to you -
"It's YOUR erection, own it."
But if you wanted to borrow one you might get a happy ending too :wink:




HONEY'S REQUEST

Its your penis, so it you should own

But maybe tonight, can I have a loan?
I’m looking to have a most happy end
Must be straight with a slight upward bend
And long so it can just hit the spot
I would find that incredibly hot
Not skinny please, I prefer rather wide
Stretching that pleasures my vaginal sides
It better stay hard the entire night
A dick that is limp just isn’t right
And that isn’t the only thing that I need
A tongue talented that goes the right speed
Cowgirl, missionary and of course doggie style
I’ve got it all planned, it will take a while
Just pump away till I quiver and shake
Orgasm after orgasm and I never fake
To hit the jackpot, finally good luck
With a most satisfying old fashioned fuck
And after fulfilling my needs with a night in the sack
Thanks for the loan, you may have your cock back