It just fitted, delightfully tightly!
Her hymen did slow things down, slightly.
She didn’t mind much,
(Just some squealing and such).
“Good! That’s out of the way!” she said brightly.
Month: July 2018
One for the road
What on earth had got into her head?
If she’d only said “no thanks” instead!
Not had just one more drink!
Well, what else would she think,
Naked, spreadeagled, tied to his bed?
Prom night
In the cold of the night, breasts tight-budded,
Eyes brimming, goose-pimpled, She shuddered.
Her first time and all!
Up against a brick wall,
Disappointing, and sort of cold-blooded.
The biddable wench
A nice biddable wench, often bidden,
A slut, who can’t quite keep it hidden,
Can’t even decide
If she likes best to ride,
Or to be underneath, and be ridden!
A plea from the heart
She sighed, “Darling, I hope you don’t mind…
But I’m pretty much certain you’ll find
That the front hole is better,
More slippery, wetter,
More overall purpose-designed!
Enough
“God! Enough is enough!” she cried, heatedly.
“Fuck you!” he answered, conceitedly,
“Just this once more,”
(As he’d told her before!)
Fucking tireless bastard, repeatedly!
Over the hump
It just fitted, delightfully tightly!
Her hymen impeded him slightly.
She didn’t mind much,
(Just some squealing and such);
“Well, that’s out of the way!” she said brightly.
The rough and tumble
When she drank, she’d get loud, start to stumble,
Her prissy veneer would crumble;
She’d tell filthy jokes
And start flirting with blokes,
Grab their cocks, and say “Fancy a tumble?”
Endgame
Flushed and panting, bedraggled, sweat-beaded,
“I’m coming! Don’t stop! Fuck!” she pleaded.
Well, no risk of that!
He kept going, flat chat,
Rather harder, in fact, than was needed.
The last straw
All her holes pretty much rubbed red-raw,
A late-comer joined in… the last straw!
She groaned “Right, guys, that’s it!
There’s no place he can fit!”
“Oh, come on!” they said. “Don’t be a bore!”