Like a
voracious love parasite
Dirgand
sought the pleasures of Shear de Lite
Every day
and every night
He was
gratified by the hermaphrodite
Sometimes
she was a he
And
sometimes he was a she
But whichever
way they swung
Shear
provided ecstasy
“Shear, I
think we should wed,” said Dirgand as they lay on the conjugal bed.
“Sire, that
would give me so much joy and I know your wish is for a baby boy, but I may not
be able to provide your heir, as there is no guarantee that I can bear.”
“Barrenness
caused so much strife for my departed wife. It was one of the reasons she took
her own life.”
“There may
have been another reason you didn’t succeed.”
“Are you
suggesting I have ineffective seed?”
“All I am
saying is that it possibly may be.”
“No, it
can’t be me!”
“Pardon me,
sire. I didn’t mean to evoke your ire. If it is so, there is no need to feel
ashamed. That’s just life and you can’t be blamed.”
“What is a
man if he cannot sire? Many may think that I lack the fire.”
“I’ve never
known anyone with so much desire.”
“My need for
an heir is rather dire. My name will be lost if it doesn’t transpire.”
“All we can
do is leave it to fate and see if it allows us to procreate. “
“Then let us
not wait. Come to me now and I’ll try to impregnate.”
“Sire, I’m
yours for you to satiate.”
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