Naked, soon to be raped, it would seem,
Her eyes fixed on the knife’s wicked gleam …
Then the blade at her throat,
And she screamed! On that note,
She woke, hot, drenched with sweat. Just a dream!
Tag: fantasy
It must be love
Hair a mess and scuffed shoes, quite unkempt,
But the boy about whom she had dreamt!
So she smiled, licked her lips,
Gave a flash of her nipps …
Fuck! A girl’s got to make some attempt!
Agents provocateurs
It’s a justification, of sorts,
For occasional wishful, rude thoughts,
That girls walk round the shops,
Tits half out of their tops,
In those tight, pussy-hugging short shorts!
Humidy and tumidity
He watched, hidden; a perfumed mist swathed
Him and her both, like sweat, as she bathed.
He did things, in his mind,
Of the nastiest kind.
She emerged, nonetheless, quite unscathed!
Yielding not to temptation
Sister Frances just went through the motions,
Still prey, though she prayed, to lewd notions…
If only they knew!
It was all she could do,
Not to touch herself during devotions!
The contemplative life
Sister Catherine, wimpled and sandaled,
Though frequently fingered and candled,
(Such shameful delight),
Still lay sleepless at night,
Racked by thoughts about being manhandled!
La rêve
Elle avait une vrai je ne sais quoi;
Il s’imaginait, donc, quelque fois,
Qu’ils faisaient l’amour
Puis on aurait toujours
Eu, au moins, ce bref instant de joie.
One track mind
When she laughed at the man’s one track mind,
He said “Yes, well, my thoughts are confined
To when next we might screw,
And the things that I’ll do,
And which orifice, things of that kind.”
The getting of wisdom
The young governess-cum-private-tutor,
To William, confirmed self-polluter,
Was not of much use,
But for more self-abuse,
While imagining ways he might root her.
The sublime and the ridiculous
Like a fantasy, somehow made flesh,
Clad in wisps of lace, satin and mesh
And some wicked high heels,
She giggles and squeals;
He blushes, and hopes his breath’s fresh.