He was certain his heart would just melt;
Disbelievingly, gently, he felt
Her smooth buttocks, her breast,
And the thing he loved best…
The intense, musky way that she smelt.
Month: July 2011
Sweater
Her breasts fought like two cats in her sweater,
No brassiere, either, to fetter
His naked delight:
It was thin, it was tight,
God! If only her sweater were wetter!
Swoon
She gazed into his eyes, in rapt wonder:
His sexual spell she was under…
She swooned, in a trance…
While he took off her pants,
And her hymen was soon torn asunder.
Ground to a halt
Naked, sweating, they grapple and wrestle;
Loins grind like a mortar and pestle,
Hearts pound in their chests,
Hot sweat drips from her breasts,
Where, exhausted and spent, he’ll soon nestle.
Not with a bang
It came not with a bang, but a whimper;
His world’s end: his penis grew limper
And limper. “Bad luck,”
She said “Now we can’t fuck.”
She did add, though, she’d still let him pimp her.
One swallow
She might rub it, and give it a shake,
Might go down on him (icing the cake),
But it still doesn’t follow
That one little swallow,
Though sweet, does a boy’s summer make.
It's complicated
Sex involved, for him, ropes, whips and canes,
Dildos, leather and rubber and chains:
She, in turn, understood,
And the sex was damn good,
Worth a few little bruises and sprains!
The goose and the gander
Lightly dressed, she’d been caught in the rain;
The profile of her nipples was plain.
He could see her goose-flesh,
Through the garment’s thin mesh…
What came next… well… no need to explain!
Time and motion
In the end, she gave in and said yes,
Although under a bit of duress;
She could keep saying no,
Or just fuck him and go,
So she shrugged and slipped out of her dress.
No way to fight it
It’s no use, there’s no damn way to fight it!
I’ve just caught a glimpse of her right tit,
Exposed in her dress,
And I couldn’t care less
For politeness; I just want to bite it!