She’d had sex, she knew that for a fact…
With some bloke… Hard to be more exact.
Then she’d got home somehow…
Certain things come back now …
His big cock! Not the actual act.
Month: September 2016
Funny, that.
Her tight jeans tucked up into her cunnie,
A bit of a slut, but a honey!
A couple of drinks,
Might get lucky, he thinks.
As it turns out, he’s right on the money!
Points decision
At the pub, in the smoke and the fug,
This bloke’s too short, a face like a pug.
Would she fuck him? she thought.
Did she think that she ought?
Just a blow-job, maybe, or a tug.
Light relief
The damn cheek! She was rather amused,
And, to tell the truth, somewhat confused.
Not her type, not a bit;
Fuck him? Not in a fit!
For a laugh, though, it might be excused.
Rainy day woman
Dress hitched up, down a grubby side lane,
Being screwed by some man in the rain…
So turned on, too, what’s more!
What if somebody saw?
What to do, how on earth to explain?
Transparency
Saying filthy things into her ear,
The things that he’ll do. Lord! Oh dear!
He’ll fuck her… then… what?
That must hurt quite a lot!
As she’ll soon find out, it would appear.
Opportunity knocking
His dick’s hard. Should she give it a squeeze,
Grab his belt buckle, get on her knees?
It must be plain as day!
Must she beg? Must she say
Fuck me, now! Must she also say please?
A pox on both their houses
Pussy burning, a quite nasty itch,
When she pissed, God, it hurt like a bitch!
So she’d picked up the clap
From some poxy damn chap,
The big question, of course, being which?
The cart before the horse
In his mind they seemed perfectly matched,
And she lived right next door. A plan hatched…
He’d just somehow persuade her …
Or what if he made her…?
Why not? Pleasant itch to be scratched!
Going with the flow
No great problem, her mind wasn’t closed;
She in principle wasn’t opposed:
Whether this hole or that…
They could just have a chat.
Or perhaps toss a coin, she supposed.