Be the risk of it however slight
That he’d ravish her, still he just might.
So then, what should she do?
Keep the damn rendezvous?
Might it be rather nice? Well, yes. Quite!
Month: September 2018
Trapped
Gosh! she thought. Things do look pretty grim,
And the odds on escaping damn slim!
He was hung like a horse!
She survived, though, of course,
It was like she’d been torn limb from limb!
Battle scars
A tough, leathery pussy, well-worn,
Droopy-lipped and bedraggled and torn;
Done good service, for sure!
Imagine it newer…
Sometime, say, before he was born!
Different strokes
She’s been tied up, been fucked rough and caned…
She came hard, though. Distinctly unfeigned!
Well, it does take all types.
But the welts and the stripes?
Some things can’t be so simply explained!
Fate
Though she punched him a bit, and she squealed,
She knew right away that she’d yield.
She’d thought that she’d die,
When his cock brushed her thigh!
But by then, though, her fate had been sealed!
Dude
“Sarah Jane” said the badge on her titty.
A smart bastard, down from the city,
Pot-bellied and bald,
Said “What’s t’other one called?”
Which, he thought, bloody fool, rather witty.
Fallen woman
Fallen woman, alas, or still falling,
A few shreds of virtue forestalling
Her probable fate…
But the fuck was first rate!
It was plain that she’d not missed her calling!
Made to measure
Well, I must say, she said, and sighed sweetly,
Your cock does fit in rather neatly!
I doubted it would,
Yet it feels so good,
All that great length, inside me completely!
Slim pickings
Perky titties, and lean as a whippet.
Her skirt little more than a snippet
Attracting one’s gaze,
As one thought of the ways,
And the holes into which one might slip it!
Saying it with flowers
He’d brought flowers. She’d been wined and dined,
So she knew what the cad had in mind.
His hand crept up her thigh…
Defloration drew nigh…
To which fate she was blithely resigned!