What’s the rule, he thought, scratching his head,
About when can a man fart in bed?
Not till after the screw?
If she farts before you?
Should he ask her? No… Better unsaid.
Month: January 2015
Snatch and grab
Though she fought tooth and claw, scratch and jab,
Still he groped, squeezed and poked; snatch and grab!
Panties gone, her dress torn,
She thought, beaten, forlorn,
“Why on earth did I not catch a cab?”
Passive resistance
A good woman, according to Gandhi,
Confronted by somebody randy,
Should calmly resist,
Or at least should insist
She be fucked somewhere grassy or sandy.
Playing the odds
Since she hadn’t, in fact, said no, yet;
Since her pussy, he knew, was so wet;
Since she’d given him head,
And lay nude on his bed,
She was up for a root, yeah, no sweat!
Orderly misconduct
Drunk, in panties and bra, both askew,
She’d begun to attract quite a queue
“Look,” she said. “Tell you what;”
I can’t screw the whole lot,
But I’d say I can screw quite a few!”
A certain inevitability
Young and innocent, though well developed,
She panted, she sighed, her heart galloped.
Her clothes fell away;
She would soon, come what may,
Be undone, his cock sweetly enveloped!
Tough as
Though he’d licked her and fingered her first,
“It’s like fucking boot-leather!” he cursed.
She sobbed “Don’t stop, my love!”
With one more mighty shove
And a loud cry, her maidenhead burst!
Candlelight
The soiree became rather debauched…
Wenches whipped, raped, their pubic hair torched!
The old Marquis de Sade
And his friends partied hard…
Poor whores, underpaid, played with and scorched!