Pussy burning, a quite nasty itch,
When she pissed, God, it hurt like a bitch!
So she’d picked up the clap
From some poxy damn chap,
The big question, of course, being which?
Author: pete
The cart before the horse
In his mind they seemed perfectly matched,
And she lived right next door. A plan hatched…
He’d just somehow persuade her …
Or what if he made her…?
Why not? Pleasant itch to be scratched!
Going with the flow
No great problem, her mind wasn’t closed;
She in principle wasn’t opposed:
Whether this hole or that…
They could just have a chat.
Or perhaps toss a coin, she supposed.
Such sweet sorrow
Should he screw her one more time or go?
Pleasure his to indulge or forgo…
He was hard enough still…
Though beginning to spill,
That sweet pussy was worth one more go!
Looking on the bright side
Though seduced and abandoned, deceived,
In a way, she was sort of relieved;
Cherry out of the way,
And the fuck was okay.
Still she was just a little bit peeved.
Fatal words
Her confession of love misconstrued,
From her words he was led to conclude
That she wouldn’t say no,
Which she didn’t, although,
If she had, she might still have been screwed!
Transparent
His intentions were hardly opaque,
He was after a root, no mistake,
And he wouldn’t go wrong,
But she’d string him along,
For a laugh, and for decency’s sake.
Whimsy
As a rule, she was proper and prim,
But agreed to a root, on a whim.
It was not bad at all,
She would later recall,
Though of course it need not have been him.
Jailbait
“Well, a fuck’s pretty much in the bag,”
He presumed, then his plans hit a snag.
“I’ll be sixteen next week,”
She said, flashing a peek
Of her right boob. “Come on but, let’s shag!”
Shortening the odds
With the chance of a root looking slimmer,
Her randiness down to a simmer,
She hitched up her skirt.
“One more drink wouldn’t hurt,
Would it, though?” she thought, hope just a glimmer.