Ode to Jo.

Her aged eyes are oval black and sultry;
I see them sweetly swear with every thought.
while rich lust broil's within my soul
its well contained within her tender walk.
her perfect legs just gently gleam;
as a musky hint pervades the air,
while with her every forward step
I heavily breathe then to gulp
as she slowly sits upon the chair.
I note the slightly raising skirt,
and a pale plump gulf of mounds,
that are nestled and so slowly rising;
perfect in their form, so full and round.
I gulp at her -well worked- sly wink;
to then feel my mouth slowly drying.
Then close my eyes and here I dream,
and long to stop myself from trying
to imagine taking a nice long gentle squeeze...
But then I leave because I have to;
my stop has come it's time to go.
So off I walk to slowly ponder
upon my oh so lovely Jo.