It just fitted, delightfully tightly!
Her hymen impeded him slightly.
She didn’t mind much,
(Just some squealing and such);
“Well, that’s out of the way!” she said brightly.
The rough and tumble
When she drank, she’d get loud, start to stumble,
Her prissy veneer would crumble;
She’d tell filthy jokes
And start flirting with blokes,
Grab their cocks, and say “Fancy a tumble?”
Endgame
Flushed and panting, bedraggled, sweat-beaded,
“I’m coming! Don’t stop! Fuck!” she pleaded.
Well, no risk of that!
He kept going, flat chat,
Rather harder, in fact, than was needed.
The last straw
All her holes pretty much rubbed red-raw,
A late-comer joined in… the last straw!
She groaned “Right, guys, that’s it!
There’s no place he can fit!”
“Oh, come on!” they said. “Don’t be a bore!”
Eternity
The poor girl, she was tortured infernally,
Doomed, she expected, eternally,
Once she gave in,
Though she’d known it was sin,
But goddamn! It felt so good, internally!
Drowning his sorrows
A man ages, grows old in a wink.
His hair thins and his cock and balls shrink.
Roots become so damn rare
That he ceases to care.
It’s enough to drive good men to drink!
The book and its cover
He was pimply and skinny and weasely,
Just one quick fuck, she thought,queasily.
Much to her shock,
He had quite a huge cock,
Which he slipped in delightfully easily!
Summer of love
She was fifteen. Her name was… what? Julie?
Age, names didn’t bug us unduly.
Free love, lots of weed…
Well, what more did we need?
She had nice tits. She smelled of patchouli.
The photographer’s model
A photographer’s model, her fees
(“Spread your legs, darlin’. Wider. Say cheese!”)
Depend largely on what
You want done, clothed or not,
If the rent’s due, and if you say please.
Reading the signs
He was nice, but she thought she detected
A hint, though she might stand corrected,
He wanted her just
To indulge his vile lust,
Which he did, pretty much as expected!