In the end, it seemed rather cold-blooded;
She’d thought herself bold, but now shuddered,
For right from the minute he
Took her virginity
Somehow she felt she’d been dudded.
As the crow flies
I’m as straight as the flight of the crow,
I will make you a promise mate, though,
If I ever turn queer
You’re certain to hear,
In fact, to be first one to know!
The way to a girl's heart
She sat, charmingly poised and unruffled.
From under her skirt, where he snuffled,
He sent out dispatches,
Whilst breathing in snatches,
Impassioned, though fuzzy and muffled.
Flowers
With the roses, with which he had showered her,
Slowly, the rogue overpowered her
Meek disposition,
Her shy inhibition,
And dazzled, debauched and deflowered her.
Second thoughts
The encounter, alas, was ill-fated,
Regrets and excuses belated,
She’d cried and said “Stop!”
When he clambered on top,
But he rooted her still until sated!.
Just dessert
She was innocent, young and deluded;
Her big night came with breakfast included…
Wine gone to her head;
She wound up in his bed,
Soon deflowered, deceived and denuded.
Initiation
She was big-bosomed, freckled and hairy;
The boy thought her sexy, but scary.
She showed him her tits,
And her moist, bushy bits,
Which he poked and squeezed, randy but wary.
Consuming passion
As a sexual service consumer,
Beware of false promise and rumour;
If tits are inflated,
The girl’s over-rated;
It helps to keep one’s sense of humour!
Debriefing
He was anxious to know if it hurt,
As she hitched up her knickers and skirt.
“Well, a bit, just at first,
When I thought that you’d burst
My insides,” she said, smoothing her shirt.
In good hands
When she touched it, she gasped at it’s size;
When she stroked it, God! What a surprise!
Through her fingers there slipped
Globs of stuff that now dripped
From her hands and her belly and thighs!