When he wanted a root, she got cross;
She said “Frankly, I don’t give a toss.
Well, I will, but that’s all,
Or I’ll suck it. Your call.
And if that doesn’t suit you, your loss!”
Tag: consent
Counting tricks
Open-armed, open-mouthed, open-legged,
She’d said “Yes! Oh God, Yes!” Almost begged.
Pretty randy, you’d swear,
Bloody open misere,
Then she clammed up, the bitch, and reneged!
Absofuckinglutely!
A mysterious girl, enigmatic,
Desirable, true, but erratic.
She’d often say no
To a nookie, although,
Word and deed, her consent was emphatic!
What’s love got to do with it?
By some feminine sudden caprice,
She consented! Would wonders not cease?
Not from love, she explained,
(Her excitement all feigned),
Just to shut him up, get some damn peace!
Pulling an all-nighter
Friday night, at the bar… they’d just met…
“What a stud!” she thought, already wet.
“I could fuck you all night!”
He said. “Suits me alright…”
She replied. “If that’s no idle threat!”
Hindsight
Young and pretty, though rather short-sighted,
Next day she was less than delighted,
When told she’d been had
By her boyfriend, his dad,
And a couple of mates they’d invited!
The knock-back
She’d be up for a root, he appraised,
But thought later on, wounded and dazed,
He’d been rather too blunt…
That the mention of cunt,
Might perhaps have not been so well phrased.
Yearning
Though consumed with libidinous yearning,
Poor girl, she at least, though, was learning
To say no at first,
The fuck (postponed at worst)
All the better for being discerning.
The cart before the horse
In his mind they seemed perfectly matched,
And she lived right next door. A plan hatched…
He’d just somehow persuade her …
Or what if he made her…?
Why not? Pleasant itch to be scratched!
Fatal words
Her confession of love misconstrued,
From her words he was led to conclude
That she wouldn’t say no,
Which she didn’t, although,
If she had, she might still have been screwed!