Josh, the Adonis of his dorm, strong and bold, Stood in his room, a glistening storm, a story yet untold.
He squeezed his cock, a mist in his eyes, As biceps he sculpted, a watery surprise.
His posters of models, all chiseled and cool, Watched on in horror, their poses askew.
For Josh, in his fervor, a dance quite absurd, Soaked textbooks and posters, each precious word blurred.
He pirouetted, water flying in arcs, A symphony of splashes, his soundtrack of sparks.
The ceiling, a canvas, adorned with wet drips, As Josh, lost in his workout, sprayed his piss on your lips.
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