See the Lechers Crawl with the Call-Girls Under the Table

Hands played on the table,
And a hand splayed on her chest.
A poker face but for a price;
Your chips stack higher than the rest.

See the lechers with the call girls,
Crouching under tables.
Prolonged leers and stretching wallets;
Dirty urban fables.

Cards are called and faces pale,
Groping for a matching pair.
Breaths are ragged, kisses rough;
Groping at her underwear.

Failing, flummoxed, folding;
Your matches are unyielding.
Gasping, orthodox, skin-crawling;
An ending without feeling.

The End

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