Having got herself drunk, but not very,
On one little glassful of sherry,
She cheekily giggled,
And sexily wriggled,
And offered the waiter her cherry!
Tag: cherry
Done
Look, he said. You’re a pretty cute kid.
If you want a damn fuck, (which she did),
Spread your pussy, okay?
And she rushed to obey,
Cherry something of which to be rid.
Handbag
Of her cherry, at last, disencumbered,
She sighed with relief, although lumbered,
It seemed, with this jock…
Just a man… just a cock,
But his days as her handbag were numbered.
Cherry blossom time
She was sixteen, no longer a kid,
Cherry something of which to be rid.
That cute guy at the gym,
She could lose it with him…
Could…might…would… in fact, did!
Cherry blossom time
Cherry popped… and, of course, she’d survived!
They both laughed a bit, joked and high-fived.
“Did you come?”
She said “Yes,
And I guess, more or less,
If I ain’t coming still, I’ve arrived!”
Looking on the bright side
Though seduced and abandoned, deceived,
In a way, she was sort of relieved;
Cherry out of the way,
And the fuck was okay.
Still she was just a little bit peeved.
Cherry picking
She seemed not to mind too much undressing;
A virgin, perhaps, he was guessing,
A bit shy, not very,
And losing her cherry
Not something she found too distressing.
Rite of passage
Cherry popped, she felt changed, somehow girlier,
Tits firmer, pubic hair curlier,
Flirty, not shy,
Mildly wondering why
She’d not got herself rooted much earlier!
Freshness
Teenage girls seem to come with a use-by date,
Stamped on their arse, “Cherry lose-by date”.
Anxious to screw,
They don’t worry much who;
They want cock, be it how big or whose by fate!
The scale of things
“I’d have done it before, if I’d known!”
She said, “Shit, it beats wanking alone!”
“So, was losing my cherry
Traumatic? Not very.
Much less, say, than losing my phone!”