She woke, naked, and covered with goo,
Squirted, splattered by goodness knows who,
On a damp, smelly bed,
Squishy pussy, sore head,
And thought “God! What on earth did I do?”
Tag: drunk
Life’s a bitch
After five or six beers, she’s groggy…
And randy! Her knickers are soggy!
Next thing she knows, she’s
On her hands and her knees,
Being rooted by somebody, doggy!
Woman’s best friend
The whole night was a blur, just a fog.
She conceded she’d had too much grog,
Which might help explain how
She’s just woken up now,
Naked, snuggled up next to her dog!
What?
“Look”, she said. “It was wrong, but so what?
I was drunk. I was horny, why not?
He’s your best mate, I know,
And I should have said no…
At the time though, I sort of forgot!”
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 bit tacky
Pussy trickling a seminal ooze,
Down her thighs, squishing into her shoes,
Too far out of it, though,
To care, even to know
It was there, let alone wonder whose!
Photo opportunity
She’d got drunk and passed out. For a joke
He undressed her. (But what if she woke?)
Took a photo or two…
Should he give her a screw?
“Fuck!” he thought. “Yeah! Why not go for broke?”
The whisky speaking
He came onto her, some crude damn punk!
“Want a fuck?” he asked. “Yes, I am drunk,
So are you, though, no doubt,
And it’s screw, or miss out!”
“True enough”, she thought. “Okay.” Slam dunk!
Party games
Pretty drunk, she just lay, glassy-eyed,
Pussy dribbling a bit, open wide.
He unbuttoned his pants.
Well, why pass up the chance?
Not too lively, but still, a free ride!
In uncertain light
God! She’d not even thought to enquire,
Half-drunk, by the flickering fire!
Well fucked, but by whom?
She’d been led to assume
By Sir Hugh, (but in fact by his squire!)