“Gosh!” she thought. “Fucking’s much under-rated!”
(His penis size not unrelated).
“And just when I swore
I can’t come anymore,
Here I am, coming still, unabated!”
Tag: coming
Endgame
Flushed and panting, bedraggled, sweat-beaded,
“I’m coming! Don’t stop! Fuck!” she pleaded.
Well, no risk of that!
He kept going, flat chat,
Rather harder, in fact, than was needed.
Enough rope
She’d agreed but, in fact, could she cope
With the vibrating toys and the rope,
And the lack of control
Even over which hole…?
What to do, but keep coming and hope?
Libidinous angst
She woke up, panting, coming, hot, screaming!
Alone! Had she only been dreaming?
No something more literal!
Visceral! Clitoral!
Living, and being, not seeming!
Mechanisation
As for men, with their lies and their flattery,
Comings and goings so splattery,
Thumping their chests,
Sordid, kinky requests;
Her new sex partner comes with a battery!
Roll play
Though his motives remained rather murky,
She went along, giggling and perky.
“Yes! Whip me please Master!
Ouch! God! Fuck me faster!”
She screamed, coming, eyes rolled up, jerky.
In clover
She’d grown tired of housework and stoves;
So dressed up, her breath scented with cloves,
Placed a “Personal” ad,
And she no sooner had,
Than had gentlemen coming in droves!
There is no God
“Oh god! No!” she exclaimed, feeling cheated;
So near to coming she’d teetered,
But snatched from the brink!
He’d come, started to shrink…
She cursed “Damn you! (expletive deleted.)”
Umming and ahhing
She’d enjoyed his soft clitoral strumming,
His going down on her, while humming,
But, having got in,
Soon the pleasure wore thin,
And she wished he would be more forthcoming!
Hairy-chestedness
In the cot, he was less than adept,
Which she didn’t mind too much, except
That, with all his shortcomings,
His boasts and chest-drummings
She found rather hard to accept!