Should he screw her one more time or go?
Pleasure his to indulge or forgo…
He was hard enough still…
Though beginning to spill,
That sweet pussy was worth one more go!
Month: September 2016
Looking on the bright side
Though seduced and abandoned, deceived,
In a way, she was sort of relieved;
Cherry out of the way,
And the fuck was okay.
Still she was just a little bit peeved.
Fatal words
Her confession of love misconstrued,
From her words he was led to conclude
That she wouldn’t say no,
Which she didn’t, although,
If she had, she might still have been screwed!
Transparent
His intentions were hardly opaque,
He was after a root, no mistake,
And he wouldn’t go wrong,
But she’d string him along,
For a laugh, and for decency’s sake.
Whimsy
As a rule, she was proper and prim,
But agreed to a root, on a whim.
It was not bad at all,
She would later recall,
Though of course it need not have been him.
Jailbait
“Well, a fuck’s pretty much in the bag,”
He presumed, then his plans hit a snag.
“I’ll be sixteen next week,”
She said, flashing a peek
Of her right boob. “Come on but, let’s shag!”
Shortening the odds
With the chance of a root looking slimmer,
Her randiness down to a simmer,
She hitched up her skirt.
“One more drink wouldn’t hurt,
Would it, though?” she thought, hope just a glimmer.
To market, to market
Naked, chained, prodded, things looking dire,
Indecently groped by each buyer…
The slave-dealer’s voice …
She had damn little choice
Except squeal and squirm and perspire!
Making headway
When the guy after whom she’d so lusted
Found out, she thought “Shit! Like, so busted!”
He wanted some head…
She’d have fucked him instead,
She complained… but remained keen as mustard.
Crestfallen
Now that half-hard was all he could muster,
Well, rooting had quite lost its lustre,
Since yesterday’s cock,
To his sorrow and shock,
As they say, is today’s feather duster.