He felt guilty… or some such emotion,
For fucking her… curious notion,
He thought… She’s a slut…
Well… he fucked her, yeah, but…
One more squirt’s just a spit in the ocean!
Tag: guilt
Life
She served drinks in a tavern and whored.
Shame and guilt she could hardly afford.
Just a sort of a life,
Till a mother and wife,
A fond dream she was working toward!
Tears and fears
She was tasty! Goddam finger-lickin’ !
“Go on, urged his mates. “Are you chicken?”
They’d all had a go,
And he wanted to, though,
When she’d cried, he’d felt sort of guilt-stricken.
The tryst
Thursday lunchtime, their regular tryst.
She was naked already. They kissed…
Fucked… She got up to pee,
Made a nice cup of tea.
Risk, intrigue… and guilt… That’s what he missed.
Loss of innocence
At the point of (Sob! Gasp!) no return,
Beyond guilt, past religious concern,
Reckless now, lost to sin,
She begged “Put it all in!”
Though so innocent, eager to learn!
Without benefit of clergy
When he fucked her, she got quite enraged,
But her guilt pangs were somewhat asuaged,
Lying there in his bed,
Yes, he loved her, he said.
“Good!” she said. “Does this mean we’re engaged?”
Her heart's not in it
He was sick of her ‘one days’ and ‘maybes’,
Her talk about God, guilt and babies;
And then, just last night,
She gave in, but took fright
About herpes and cancer and rabies.
But the flesh is weak
Though her flesh was hot, still, in her bones,
And despite her involuntary moans,
She still guiltily knew
That a girl shouldn’t do,
What a good girl till marriage postpones.
Penitent
Naked, trembling, when told to, she knelt,
Drunken on the emotions she felt;
Fear, pride, guilt and joy;
Would tonight he employ
His bare hand or the cane or the belt?
Catholic guilt
Between pangs of regret, and of guilt
On each stroke he plunged in to the hilt.
It was wrong, but felt right,
And so warm and so tight,
As he flooded her womb with his milt.