Shakespearean Sonnet

Into the bathroom
In quite a big rush
I sense the big boom
And my cheeks get flushed
The rumble and wretch
The stomach in pain
I want to play catch
But it always rains
The gritting of teeth
The sound of a grunt
My cheeks tend to seethe
Squirting out a runt
Biting my lip creates an orgasma
Creating semi-solid fecal plasma