He creeps into her room. Her pulse quickens.
He’s naked! She thinks “What the Dickens!”
She’s naked as well,
And turned on, truth to tell;
The plot lengthens and reddens, and thickens!
Temptation
Randy, wet and deliciously tempted,
She undid her blouse and pre-empted
His hand on her breast.
Still a virgin, he guessed,
Sick of being left out and exempted.
Passing thoughts
With his shirt and his tie and one boot on,
He mounted her there, on her futon,
(A Japanese bed,
Very trendy, he’d read,
But they’re hard, and a bugger to root on!)
Imperturbable
Hands and feet tied, she wriggled and shuffled,
Gagged too, her small protests were muffled,
Upstairs, in his flat,
Rooted this way and that,
Throughout which she was strangely unruffled!
Her heart's not in it
He was sick of her ‘one days’ and ‘maybes’,
Her talk about God, guilt and babies;
And then, just last night,
She gave in, but took fright
About herpes and cancer and rabies.
Self discovery
With her fingers, helped out by some spit,
She pokes, rubs up and down in her slit.
“Where’s this clitoris thing?
Wait! What’s that? Pow! Kerrrrrching!
And again! Oh my God! Yes, that’s it!”
Oops!
What with wondering if it would fit,
Having poked round the outside a bit,
Going on about love,
He just gave one more shove,
And then something gave way and … “Oh shit!”
Hidden depths
She’d stay virgin as long as she could.
Although boys thought she wouldn’t, she would!
When the right fellow tried,
She’d say yes, teary-eyed.
She imagined it might be quite good!
Virtue is its own reward
She felt let down, frustrated and sad.
Would to let him have been all that bad?
His hand under her dress,
She’d moaned, almost said yes…
Now he’d gone, how she wished that she had.
Retrospective
Though she’d found fucking much to her taste,
In due course, once seduced and disgraced,
She repented at leisure
Those moments of pleasure,
Which passed, sadly, too much in haste.