She was well bred, respected, refined…
Still, the size of his cock brought to mind
That of Brutus, her horse…
Not for fucking of course…
But for fondling… yes… things of that kind.
Tag: aristocracy
Wacky
Lady Astor, hot blooded and wacky,
Though knowing, of course, it was tacky,
Was yet not above
The mad making of love
With a footman or some other lackey.
The stable boy
What a wonderful fucking, forsooth!
She thought. God! What a talented youth!
Just a stable boy, yet…
A fuck not to forget!
Bless his cock, be he e’er so uncouth.
The rose garden
In the rose garden, barely concealed,
Bare-arsed, in the grass where she kneeled,
The gardener’s prick
In her hand, long and thick…
“Get it in me, for God’s sake!” she squealed.
Upstairs, downstairs
She’d said no, for all that had achieved…
She could tell… but would not be believed…
Crumpled hankie, red eyes,
Semen dripped down her thighs,
As her splendidly large bosom heaved!
Unavoidably detained
“Goodness me!” said the queen. “What a treasure!
Ten inches, I’d say! Let me measure!”
Just he now remained,
The ball over, detained
As they say, at her majesty’s pleasure!
Laughing stock
“Oh my God! He’s the fucking court jester!”
Thought Gwendoline. “Trust him to pester
A woman so much…”
A sly word, a sly touch…
As the smug little varlet undressed her!
Rebuffed
His romantic advances rebuffed,
Flabbergasted, milord huffed and puffed.
“Turn me down, would you, bitch?
That’s a bit jolly rich!
You can bloody well go and get stuffed!”
Fall from grace
She earned rather a scathing rebuke
From her stern, distant father, the Duke,
When she’d only been bored…
Just a stray fuck… good Lord!
And His Grace had walked in, by some fluke!
Lordly
“Bring her in,” said M’lord to his steward…
Poor virgin, to this end procured…
Deflowered in haste,
Then discarded, disgraced,
Fallen woman, her ruin ensured!