A bit sluttish, but terribly cute,
She said “Hello, I’m Jane. Want a root?
Like the man says, just do it!
There isn’t much to it;
Just get out your cock, point and shoot!”
Tag: cock
After the event
Though he truly did seem quite contrite,
It did give her a terrible fright;
He’d said sorry and all,
And his cock was just small,
But that still didn’t make it alright!
Youthful enthusiasm
His cock hard, as he hitched up her dress,
As she tugged at her panties, “Yes! Yes!”
But he came in her hand…
(His first time, understand…)
What a hot, sticky, glorious mess
Sunday, bloody Sunday
Eye of bat, tongue of newt, cock of ass.
Still to find: a young suitable lass,
Virgin, (seem so, at least,)
To be used by the priest,
In strange ways, for next Sunday’s black mass.
Rustic idyll
He was just a crude bumpkin, a yokel,
Uncultured, not terribly vocal,
But God, could he hump!
And a cock like a stump!
And what’s more, she thought, handily local.
In retrospect
It was moot, which affected her worse;
Oral sex, which she thought quite perverse,
Or his cock in her cunt,
Being fucked from in front,
Or rolled over and fucked in reverse!
Understandably so
She’d gone suddenly silent and pensive.
The word “fuck” she’d found quite offensive,
And “cunt” too, and “cock”,
And his size was a shock.
She was plainly a bit apprehensive.
Familiarity breeds contempt
Seven years wed, little love lost,
She said “Kiss me.” He said “Have you flossed?”
She said “Yes, and have you
Washed your cruddy cock, too?”
Which she thought quite a decent riposte.
The blushing bride
From the bride’s pussy slick moisture leaked.
Though she covered her eyes, she still peeked.
Her first glimpse of a cock!
She recoiled in shock.
“That can’t all fit inside me!” she squeaked.
Interface
Yes, she’d felt a distinct, mild foreboding;
The flowers … some sort of encoding,
A message of sorts,
About lecherous thoughts,
Of his cock in her pussy, uploading!