As she fingered herself on the can,
She imagined her hand was a man…
She came hard, with a sob,
And went back to her job…
“Go get drunk… fuck some guy… that’s a plan!”
Tag: drunk
One over the eight
“Gosh, I must be one over the eight,”
She thought, sadly a little too late,
In a back room somewhere,
With her legs in the air…
“It’s this part of the night that I hate!”
A few drinks
A few drinks he said… look where it’s led!
His big hands on her arse, the cheeks spread…
Pussy lips pulled apart…
Her poor virginal heart
Filled with guilt, shame and gut-wrenching dread!
Plastered in Paris
She’d gone out and got pretty much plastered…
Great fun, as they say, while it lasted…
She met this nice guy
Who seemed decent and shy…
But he fucked her five ways, the damn bastard!
Tipsy
Pretty tipsy, still steadily drinking,
“Fuck yeah!” she said, not even blinking.
“Gang bang? Shit, why not?”
She’d have laughed and said “What?”
Had she not been already past thinking.
Able bodied seaman
The young sailor chap lugged in her trunk…
She’d had bon voyage drinks… was quite drunk…
And she squeezed his cute arse,
Saying “Lovely… first class!
Care to join me and try out the bunk?”
Swoon
Drunk and stoned, she fell into a swoon,
And he thought, well now, that’s opportune,
As he hitched up her dress…
Yep, I’ll fuck her, I guess…
Hard and fast, like. She might wake up soon
Subtotal recall
She’d been raped, tied up, had her arse smacked…
Some big bloke (she knew that for a fact)
Had committed the crime.
Being drunk at the time,
It was hard, though, to be more exact.
Unaccountable
Drunk or drugged… or amnesia perhaps…
(Such convenient memory gaps!)
Was it rape, as she said,
When discovered in bed,
Or a puzzling, if brief moral lapse?
The boyfriend
“Gang bang Saturday night” said the text…
She was naked, drunk, rather perplexed…
As another guy came…
Someone said “What’s her name?”
And her boyfriend said “Okay, who’s next?”