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!
Tag: drunk
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!)
The rough and tumble
When she drank, she’d get loud, start to stumble,
Her prissy veneer would crumble;
She’d tell filthy jokes
And start flirting with blokes,
Grab their cocks, and say “Fancy a tumble?”
The rough with the smooth
Her upbringing was godly and stuffy;
She’d come home, though, drunk, eyelids puffy,
A just-rooted grin,
Having opted to sin,
And, by choice, with boys rowdy and scruffy!
Showing her cards
Despite his mates’ ragging and scoffing,
He judged, by the wine she was quaffing,
(A bottle so far),
And not wearing a bra,
There was likely a root in the offing.
Tickling her fancy
Giggling drunk, about three-quarters pickled,
Her pussy squelched softly and trickled,
Each step of the way;
Yep, she would have to say,
She’d been proper and good slapped and tickled!
Catch a falling star
He resembled somebody quite eerily,
(Much as she saw him just blearily).
Famous or not,
He was pretty damn hot!
“Want a fuck?” (Just in case), she said cheerily.