Though consumed with libidinous yearning,
Poor girl, she at least, though, was learning
To say no at first,
The fuck (postponed at worst)
All the better for being discerning.
Author: pete
Crossing the line
Around fourteen her womanhood loomed…
Hips and breasts swelled. More knowing. She bloomed.
Stupid boys in her class
Squeezed her tits, groped her arse,
To much more of which shit she was doomed.
The runaway
Pretty runaway, ripe to be rooted,
Sized up by the pimp and recruited,
Picked up on the street,
Young and tender, fresh meat,
For himself to use too, when it suited.
The interpretation of dreams
Naked, soon to be raped, it would seem,
Her eyes fixed on the knife’s wicked gleam …
Then the blade at her throat,
And she screamed! On that note,
She woke, hot, drenched with sweat. Just a dream!
Gambit
Left hand under her dress, his right cupped
Round her breast. Such a shock! So abrupt!
His cock out of his pants …
The poor girl had no chance;
Rooted! Outwitted, routed, one-upped!
Ablution
“By confession, one gains absolution,
Incest,” the priest said “self-pollution.
Worse too, I daresay;
All one’s sins washed away,
Or at least undergone some dilution!”
Freelancer
A young journalist, bullied by editors,
One step ahead of her creditors,
Now and then screwed
Men for money or food,
Not, of course, though, the worst of the predators.
Mister Perfect
So, my ideal lover, she said,
Fucks me good, doesn’t mess with my head;
No damn lies, bullshit, flattery,
Comes with a battery,
Always there, under my bed.
Domestic bliss
Twice a night was once barely enough,
But it slowed down, she got up the duff,
First routine, then a bore,
Sex became one more chore,
And if that didn’t suit him, well tough!
It must be love
Hair a mess and scuffed shoes, quite unkempt,
But the boy about whom she had dreamt!
So she smiled, licked her lips,
Gave a flash of her nipps …
Fuck! A girl’s got to make some attempt!