On your knees my slutty bee.
Inhale the scent of your Queen.
If not the nectar draws slutty bees,
Then how do you come here?
On my knees and at your whim,
My Queen rules our garden.
Then gorge yourself on the flowing stream,
Upon the feast you draw from me.
My slutty bee, drink the nectar,
From dew kissed petals on display.
Oh, my Queen quivers at my,
Suckling lips and greedy tongue.
Rise my slutty bee and feed me.
Bruise my mouth with your cum stained lips.
Give rise to your lust and need,
And show me your devotion.
My stinger is hard and ready,
Aching to sample honeyed glee.
I am your Queen, my slutty bee,
From mountain peaks to steamy valley.
Your crevice is my treasure to possess.
Head down ass up, and take my stinger.
