She was beautiful, true, but conceited…
Before sex was even completed,
She reached for her phone,
Gave one more little moan,
And “Not bad, but had better,” she tweeted.
The sum is more than the parts
“There’s a matter we need to discuss,”
She said, frowning, subdued, “about us.”
And he knew where this led,
Lying there, in her bed,
Still conjoined. It has ever been thus.
The upshot
From besotted, bemused and beguiled,
To deflowered, debauched and defiled;
Now the object of scorn,
Pouting, moody, withdrawn,
(If he only had!), heavy with child!
Prenuptial
Though she sobbed, and her bare bosom heaved,
Swore she loved him, he wasn’t deceived,
And, at last, she confessed
That the child at her breast
Was not his, but alas, preconceived.
The right moves
She was confident, knew how to move,
Gave good head, but still, what did that prove?
That she wasn’t a novice?
Well, how many of us
Don’t need to do more to improve?
Indiscretion, the better part of valour
Soon the pleasure became so intense,
She gave in and gave up all pretence
Of resistance, and just
Became slave to her lust,
Poised in inter-orgasmic suspense!
Love's labour's profit and loss
As for sex, the girl’s rapidly learning,
Becoming, in fact, quite discerning;
A root’s just a root,
And it might, or not, suit
Her, depending on how much she’s earning.
Sugar-mummy 3
Almost hairless, unblemished, a boy!
Inarticulate, awkward and coy,
Yet, so eager to screw!
Inexhaustible too!
And all hers! Hers alone to enjoy!
Sugar-mummy 2
“Come to bed, my sweet boy!” she cajoled,
Her voice husky and barely controlled.
“I’m no blushing young bride,
But we’re all pink inside!
Be a good lad, and do what you’re told!”
Sugar-mummy 1
Oh so beautiful! Yes, but how old?
Inexperienced, true, but so bold!
Still a virgin she guessed,
But his hand on her breast!
And that rigid young prick to enfold!