Plied with sherry, she started to totter.
She felt inexplicably hotter,
Began to undress.
She may well have said yes,
Perhaps not, if he’d asked her, the rotter!
Tag: consent
In depth
It sprang out of his pants and rose steeply;
She fought, didn’t sell herself cheaply!
She’d not let him know,
She swore later, although
It, in fact, had affected her deeply.
Waste not, want not
The poor girl! Passed out, pissed as a newt!
Panties showing. Those tits! She’s damn cute.
She’s so cheeky and flirty,
She wouldn’t get shirty,
He hoped, if he slipped her a root.
The unbearable wetness of being (horny)
“God, he’s slow!” she thought. “Shy, I suppose.
He could have any woman he chose!
And me, love in my eyes,
Pussy juice down my thighs,
Like some snotty kid’s damn runny nose!”
Bottom line
A nice dinner, a pretty good wine;
When he asked for a fuck, she said “Fine,
Just the usual way?
For a bondage scene, say,
I’d expect an enhanced bottom line.”
The tools of seduction
Young and foolish, a bit of a rager,
Be up for whatever, he’d wager!
A couple more drinks,
She’ll be ready, he thinks…
Bondage, whips (all good fun, nothing major!)
Logical phallusy
She was pretty, but too intellectual…
Contemplate anything sexual,
First she’d ask why,
Then compose a reply,
Predicated on being contextual.
Solicitous
“Pray, come sit by the fire, my dear!
Champagne perhaps? Whisky? A beer?
Take off your wet dress.”
And she smiled, nodded yes,
Though his motive was perfectly clear.
The wilful suspension of disbelief
Yes, he loved her, he said. Pleasant fiction!
Wet finger on clit, such sweet friction!
It flustered her so
That she kept saying no,
But with rather more hope than conviction!
The big no-no
“Get your kit off!” said Santa “Ho, ho!”
“Goodness gracious!” said Mary “No, no!”
But yes, yes, though, by golly,
All terribly jolly,
The root itself, though, just so-so.