Her consent he inferred from a nod,
And proceeded to give her a prod.
Though she moaned, rolled her eyes,
Had a look of surprise,
She said nothing throughout, which was odd.
The sporting type
“He’s a prick!” said her friend, with a frown.
“Are you gonna take that lying down?”
“Lying, standing, all-fours,
On a park bench, outdoors!
In the bath! I don’t care if I drown!”
The way to a girl’s heart
Much as girls who are new to the art yearn
For love, soon the ones who are smart learn
That giving good head
May accomplish instead
Little more than a sore throat and heartburn!
Punctuality
He’s a scoundrel, at least so reputed;
Vague hints of seduction he’d mooted!
She mustn’t be late,
Friday night, for their date,
And miss out on, perhaps, getting rooted!
Porca Madonna
He was painting a modern nativity;
Naked, as was his proclivity,
Preoccupied,
It could not be denied,
By his model’s breasts’ plunging declivity!
Monster
His cock bent, it was gnarled, a monstrosity!
Sex had a certain ferocity,
Hell of a ride!
Still, the fuck satisfied
The girl’s prurient, sick curiosity.
Power, the ultimate aphrodisiac
With the politics she was espousing
Came passion, adventure, carousing,
Moustachioed men
Guns and bombs, now and then;
Sex and danger, so bloody arousing!
Ants in her pants
Getting picked up in pubs can be chancy,
But sometimes a girl gets so antsy,
Risks, benefits weighed,
She’ll go get herself laid,
By whatever damn jock she might fancy.
Without benefit of clergy
When he fucked her, she got quite enraged,
But her guilt pangs were somewhat asuaged,
Lying there in his bed,
Yes, he loved her, he said.
“Good!” she said. “Does this mean we’re engaged?”
History repeats itself
His true motive, at last, was revealed!
She vowed, though, this time she’d not yield,
Not like once before!
She’d get up off the floor,
Where she, naked and giggling, now kneeled.