Later on, she would find herself rueing
Her coyness, the billing and cooing,
And wish, ever so,
That she’d quit saying no,
Just said yes, and got on then with screwing!
Author: pete
Youth
By sixteen, she’d matured and bloomed,
Ripe and ready, flirtatious, perfumed,
Out with boys late most nights,
Sampling all the delights
Of the flesh, her poor parents presumed.
Hustled
Naked, giggling, affected by drink,
On the pool table! “What do you think?”
Said the guy with the cue.
“What’s a fella to do?
Which to pot first? The brown or the pink?”
The wish
Sidling up he said “What are you drinking?”
“Champagne! French of course!” she said, winking.
“Then maybe we might
Leave and make love all night,
Or would that only be wishful thinking?”
False surmise
From the way that she’d rolled up her eyes,
And her sighs as he fondled her thighs,
She was ready to go,
So the fact she said no
Was a bit of an awkward surprise!
Altruism
“Look,” she said. “Please excuse my profanity…
Whom you fuck comes down to vanity.
Never mind who…
Fuck the ugly ones too…
For the overall good of humanity!”
Hard call
True, her dress was revealing and tight,
But to say she’d deserved it was trite;
Had he twisted her arm?
She’d resisted his charm,
Though perhaps not as hard as she might!
Wedding breakfast
She’d had certain misgivings, quite rightly,
But woke up next day bright and sprightly,
Cooked bacon and eggs,
On her rubbery legs;
A tight squeeze, but it’s best to fit tightly!
Bending to his will
Vile deception, with wicked intent!
She’d agreed, (but her words had been bent),
To his putting it in,
Quite enthused, to begin,
Although not in the hole where it went!
Angels on the head of a pin
The discussion became esoteric;
“The term virgin,” shouted one cleric,
“Still does not preclude
That she might yet be screwed
In ways other than fucking generic!”