My cock is a fever longing hard, For Monica Roccaforte (aka Claudia, Sylvia, Jolan, Sandra, Szilvia, Silvia) who nurseth my cum, Feeding on big dicks which doth preserve the supple breasts that don her smoking body, Her most certain horny appetite to please: My penis the physician to her wet pussy, happy that his prescriptions are swallowed. Hath she fuck me, and I desperate to blow, Blue-balls is death, which Monica did agree. For I have sworn her a Hungarian sex-goddess, and thought she is tight, Who art as hot as hell, as horny as Anna Nova and as busty as Ava Lauren. O me! what heaven hath layed this twat at my lap, Which have no prude bone in her kinky body, Or if she has, it is the bone in mine own pantaloons, What means to squeeze the jugs of the queen of Budapest? If it be not, then wank my crank I will, for my cock is not so true as all men's to my dear Monica: no, How can it? O how can my penis be untrue, That is so vexed with watching her gyrate on meatpoles that are not mine own? No marvel then, though I mistake me a pornstar, The sun it self sees not, till her legs spread. O cunning love, with your pussy juice thou keep'st me blind, Lest eyes well-seeing thy luscious ass in which my cock will enter. And her name, Rocca being rock and forte being hard thus inscribed on dicks till the moon marries the sun.