Though she knew her desires were odd,
Sex and pain brought her closer to God.
She was often, thus, found,
Screaming, naked and bound,
“God, I’m coming! and “Don’t spare the rod!
Month: April 2012
New tricks
Ruth cried “George!” with a tear in her eye,
“It’s so big!” Then, more husky and sly,
“Though I’m old, I’m still game;
I’ll bend over my frame.
Hitch my dress up and give it a try!”
Offeratory
Though she sings in the church and loves Jesus,
Disrobing, she afterwards teases
The cock of the priest,
Which, when firm and uncreased,
She allows him to put where he pleases.
The secret vice
“She’s unrootable, mate,” my mate sighed.
“I gave up, although God knows I tried.
Hell, I got in the tip,
But her cunt’s got a grip
Like a vice! It hurt so much, I cried!”
The slippery slope
Naked, scared, she had nowhere to hide,
And yet hot and wet, trembling inside.
She lay down, bit her lip,
And she let in the tip.
Then she sort of, well, just let things slide!
Unjust deserts
Though she’d known he was not to be trusted,
He’d made her feel foolish and flustered.
Now, virgin no more,
She felt…not like a whore,
But betrayed, sad, and rather disgusted!
Therapy
They’d had sex, but it wasn’t her fault,
Not from love, nor from lust, not assault,
It was more the moonlight,
That their stars just seemed right,
More the vibe, or the groove, the gestalt!
One night, in the saloon
“He must be a damn card-sharp, the varmint!”
She thought, in her last under-garment,
“He’s some kind of joker,
To cheat at strip poker,
But still, it’s good fun and no harm in’t!”
Tragic heroines
Shakespeare’s men couldn’t cut it, I fear,
Not Hamlet, Macbeth nor King Lear;
Lady Mac was much steelier,
Portia, Cordelia;
The kings and the knights were small beer.
The spoils
Though her parents could not have been stricter,
Love finally turned out the victor;
It might have been fate,
Or else, on that first date,
Rather possibly, how he had licked her!