Since she hadn’t, in fact, said no, yet;
Since her pussy, he knew, was so wet;
Since she’d given him head,
And lay nude on his bed,
She was up for a root, yeah, no sweat!
Tag: consent
Detour
They had sex every Thursday, which suited…
She’d dressed… but his ardour rebooted…
She mildly protested
But, easily bested,
Was soon unzipped, stripped and rerooted!
A soft touch
A slow hand, a smooth tongue, a soft touch;
Going down on her, foreplay and such;
Take your time! Not too fast!
When you fuck her at last,
She might protest a bit but not much!
On the cards
Flowers, gifts, a guy does the hard yards,
A first kiss, and the girls drop their guards!
A sly squeeze of a breast;
If she doesn’t protest,
Well, of course, a fuck’s quite on the cards!
The downside of a woman’s prerogative
She recalled, later on, rather dimly,
Her having said no, rather primly,
Then waking to find
(Had she then changed her mind?)
Herself drunk, being fucked, smiling grimly!
Post-traumatic dress disorder
Just sixteen, little more than a child,
But precocious, flirtatious and wild!
Clumsy hands in her bra,
Being fucked in a car,
Though what trauma this caused did seem mild.
Informed consent
She asked “Where will you put it, precisely?”
“Your cunt,” he said, bluntly, concisely…
“Your mouth… What the hell,
In your arsehole as well.”
“Fine,” she said, that will do very nicely!”
Hospitality
When a stranger came to the oasis,
Young women would veil their faces;
They wouldn’t say no
To a little root, though,
On a simply hospitable basis.
Afterthought
She was feeling decidedly fraught;
She had not behaved quite as she ought.
To have just acquiesced!
Let him fondle her breast!
She should never touch sherry or port!
Highland fling
Scottish ways, to some folk, may seem foreign;
A Scottish lass, say, for a florin,
If asked the right way,
Wouldn’t likely say nae
To a taste of what’s under the sporran!