He slipped into her cunt, snug and warm,
For some comfort, in some shape or form…
“It ain’t love, like,” he thought,
“But life’s hard, and too short…
It’s just, like, any port in a storm.”
Month: November 2025
Cause for concern
He was growing a little concerned
All his favours, sweet words… not returned…
Invitations to dance,
Any hint of romance
All disdainfully, haughtily spurned.
Right neighbourly
The young wife of the fellow next door
Comes around once a week, sometimes more,
Fucks his brains out and goes…
Oral, anal… god knows!
She’s his own private, free of charge whore!
The town bike
After school she rides round on her bike,
Seeking boys she can fuck, if they like,
Saddle soaking up cum
From her pussy and bum,
Little skirt flapping, easy to hike.