Her consent had been hotly disputed;
His claim that she had, she refuted;
“Did!”
“Didn’t!”
“Did too!”
“Yeah, but not where I poo!”
Which, of course, though, was where she’d been rooted!
Tag: consent
No joy-ride
When he’d tied her up, yeah, she’d been willing,
(Some fantasy he was fulfilling),
She couldn’t escape…
It was pretty much rape…
Well, at least, one might say, less than thrilling!
An awkward position
He said “Miss, would you please be so kind…?
Just roll over… I want you behind…
Not your pussy, my dear…
The other, I fear.
I hope you don’t very much mind!”
By a process of deduction
She’d gone out to the pub and got plastered;
She woke up, her jeans still half-masted,
Her pussy awash!
“Strange,” she thought, then “Oh gosh!
That cute guy must have fucked me, the bastard!”
A grey area
“Want a fuck?” he says. “Yeah. In your dreams!”
Then he squeezes her tits, and she screams!
So, of course, he lets go.
Did she mean like “yeah, no”?
More like, maybe, just no. So it seems.
Verbal contract
He was giving her helluva grinding!
She didn’t seem, though, to be minding.
She loved it, he’d guess.
Still, although she’d said yes,
He just hoped the agreement was binding!
Behind closed doors
The door locked,not much chance of escape!
Stunned and speechless, she stood mouth agape,
As he ripped off her dress!
Though she might have said yes,
Having not, it was pretty much rape.
The lay of the land
“Well”, she said, as she fiddled and fussed
With her petticoats. “Likely, I trust,
You’ll be wanting a root.
So, get out of that suit,
And get on with it then, if you must!”
Full of himself
His great cock, in itself was impressive!
He need not have been so aggressive;
She’d wanted it too!
But then, what could she do?
To be raped, more or less, seemed excessive!
Fisticuffs
Not to be thought a slut, she’d resisted,
Kicked, scratched, screamed and cursed, bucked and twisted;
All part of the game,
She’d been fucked all the same,
The best part, strange to say, being fisted!