“Oh my god! What on earth was I thinking,
To come to your room?” she said, winking.
“I might have escaped;
Now I’ll likely be raped!
But perhaps that’s all just wishful thinking!
Month: March 2015
Stage-fright
Sequins, feathers, abundant young curves,
She said “God! I’m a bundle of nerves!
What would Mum and Dad think
Of me, flashing the pink
To a roomful of drunken old pervs?”
The cure
Still a virgin, She made a clean breast of it.
“Okay, I’ll just make the best of it…
Don’t worry… Strip…
I’ll just put in the tip…”
“God, that’s good!” she cried. “Stick in the rest of it!”
His lucky day
Might they root? It remained to be seen.
He was nice, and he seemed to be keen.
Since she’d flirted a bit,
Even showed him some tit,
Not to fuck him would be a bit mean!
Go figure!
She was friendly, with quite a nice figure;
Applied herself to him with vigour.
With each rub and lick
Of his all too keen prick
It grew steadily harder and bigger!
Short shrift
Young Kathleen Jones was heard to lament,
(A small act of religious dissent),
“God! What’s wrong with these men?
For a root now and then
I’d quite gladly confess and repent!”
Pushing her envelope
They had sex in ways many and various,
Certain ways rather precarious;
Some made her come,
Some were awkward or dumb,
Others painful, some bloody hilarious!
Conditional approval
“Get your hand off my pussy!” she hissed.
“Stop at once! Fuck off! Cease and desist!
Well, alright. If you must…
But you do know, I trust,
I’m at least honour-bound to resist!”
Baptism of fire
She approached sex a bit apprehensively,
Naked, but legs crossed defensively;
Having said yes,
She got fucked nonetheless,
North and south, pussy, mouth, comprehensively!
Hard to please
Though she tried hard to please, did her utmost,
He called her a slut, but what cut most
Was not what he said,
But that though she gave head
And liked sex, he still fancied her butt most!