She moaned, spasmed; she’d reached fever-pitch,
When she suffered a technical glitch.
It was somewhere inside,
And, as much as she tried,
She could not reach, to turn off the switch!
Month: February 2013
Stretching a friendship
She kept smiling, and tried not to flinch,
Though the buckles and leather did pinch,
And although her heart sank,
At the clatter and clank
Of his little electrical winch!
Where to look?
What a lot of bright sun and fresh air,
To be facing with so much flesh bare,
On a damn nudist beach!
People gazed, each at each;
God! She wished she had more hair down there!
G rated
It was flimsy, and small, and opaque,
Like a fig-leaf, cheap, tacky and fake,
Just a little g-string,
A tight, scratchy wee thing,
She wore, just for decency’s sake.
Hirsute, to suit
He was funny, and slightly perverse;
He liked rubbing her “little fur purse”!
It was all that he craved;
He just loved her unshaved,
And a cunt might be called things much worse.
Circumstantial evidence
Well, of course, she was angry and shaken,
Hung-over, next day, to awaken,
Lips smudged, sticky, nude;
It seemed plain she’d been screwed,
Though a girl might, perhaps, be mistaken!
Notorious
She’d acquired a vague notoriety,
Shunned among local society;
Something to do
With her liking to screw,
And not caring too much for sobriety.
The groupie
She’d been dreaming about it all summer,
But, backstage, the night was a bummer;
The singer was blotto.
“Make do” was her motto;
She got herself off with the drummer.
Morning mystery
When he asked, she said “Don’t be absurd!”
(She’d, at first, thought she must have misheard).
So they chatted and drank;
She was later quite blank,
As to how, when and where it occurred!
Fallen woman
She allowed him a squeeze and a grope,
And set foot on the slippery slope.
Soon she fondled him too;
He grew hard, as men do,
She undressed, then, to give him more scope.