If she says yes, then wants to renege,
It might not seem too macho, but beg!
If she’s not wet enough,
You can use lots of stuff,
Butter, spit, or the yolk of an egg!
Category: AO
Adults only
Intelligent design
Women’s bodies are nicely designed,
But for purposes vaguely defined;
Yes, for breeding and such,
But by God, there’s so much
One can do, if the girl doesn’t mind!
Premeditation
She was beautiful, quite without flaws;
He could have her, but might not, because
If he did so, who knew
If the things he might do,
(Which he would), might break various laws?
Ruined, utterly
It’s en-n-n-n-normous! she stuttered,
And never were truer words uttered!
With patience and spit,
It went in, bit by bit,
Then in, out, till it spurted and sputtered!
Come warm yourself by the fire
Music plays, the warm firelight flickers;
He’s plied her with sweet potent liquors.
She feebly protests,
As he squeezes her breasts,
While his other hand gropes in her knickers.
In the shit
Though ’twas only the tip, as if stung
By a cane or a whip, highly-strung,
She screamed “That’s a bit rum!
Get it out of my bum!
Struth! ‘Twas only a slip of the tongue!
Cluster-fuck
It was quite fun, she mused retrospectively;
Each had his merits respectively.
Just to be cute,
“God! I’d love a good root!”
She’d exclaimed, but not meant it collectively.
Faint heart , fair maiden
At the sight of her cunt his heart sank;
It was threatening, alien, dank,
Sort of turned inside-out
It might bite him, no doubt!
“No”, he muttered, “I think I’ll just wank.”
Star-crossed lovers
As the dagger plunged into her breast,
That by Romeo sweetly caressed,
Who lay dead by the side
Of his five-days-old bride,
“What a fuck-up!” she thought, unimpressed.
Carmina Burana
An obscure old order monastic,
Decidedly iconoclastic,
Were fuckers and drunks,
(Not your average monks),
And their rites, by and large, orgiastic.