In a distant time, where the ocean meets the sky,
A lightkeeper ruled with a watchful eye.
His wife, a vision, in the moonlight’s glow,
Captains sought her through spyglasses below.
With a dominant heart, he tended the light,
Guiding ships safely through the treacherous night.
Yet, one evening, frustration held him tight,
As the oil for the beacon dimmed its light.
His submissive wife, sensed his distress,
She shed her dress, a gesture to impress.
Curves unveiled, a canvas so divine,
To ease his mind, she offered the sign.
Bent over the railing, her beauty on display,
Breasts hung free in the moonlit bay.
Barehanded blows, a rhythmic dance,
Reddened her bottom in a passionate trance.
Each strike brought forth a cascade of wet,
A dance of pleasure, a moment to beget.
The keeper’s hand fell, a spanks of desire,
Leaving them flushed, hearts set afire.
In mutual need, he stood behind,
She clung to the rail, passions entwined.
Each thrust crashing, waves of ecstasy,
A union like the sea, wild and free.
Screams of delight, engulfed the night,
His seed setting sail, filling her tight.
Cuddled together, by the rail,
Lost in love, an intimate tale.
But as they reveled in love’s sweet embrace,
They forgot about the watching space.
Captains at sea, with binoculars keen,
Witnessed a dance, passionate and serene.
Bathed in the green of the beacon’s light,
Three seconds at a time, a mesmerizing sight.
A secret performance, on the ocean’s stage,
With a love story written on history’s page.