“I can’t seem to get in,” he said. “Shoosh!”
She replied. “Give another big push…
It’s warm, slippery, wet…
And don’t fucking forget,
It’s the first damn hole south of my bush!”
Tag: hole
Bowling
They slipped into the loo surreptitiously..
Somebody eyed them suspiciously…
Pink, winking hole,
She bent over the bowl,
And he fucked her, hard, fast, almost viciously.
Catholic guilt
She supposed fucking must take its toll…
It might even imperil her soul!
Though of course she’d confess…
After all, she’d said yes…
Did it matter, perhaps, though, which hole?
Whetting his appetite
“How about a nice blow job to start?
I’m an expert!” she said. “It’s an art.
A slow fuck for entree?
Your choice, which hole, which way!
What’s your fancy? It’s sex a la carte!”
Role model
As she said to herself, a girl’s role
Was a life support thing for a hole…
Just fuck blokes and have babies…
No ifs, but or maybes…
No room in yer cunt fer a soul!
Surprise!
When they grabbed her, she let out a screech.
“God! Those tits!” said one. “Ain’t she a peach?”
“Fuck! You gave me a fright!
There’s, like, three of yers, right?”
She laughed. “Perfect! Like, that’s a hole each!”
The science is in
The research on the sexual act
Is a study that’s far from exact:
For the male, the goal’s
Get his prick in her hole(s)…
Her cunt, mostly. That much is a fact.
Craving
She was eighteen, fucked boys, misbehaved…
In her heart, though, she secretly craved
To not have the control
Over what, where, which hole…
To be totally fucking depraved!
Lulu
Lulu pondered her womanly rôle…
Just a sex object? What of her soul?
Were her lovers all blind
To her feelings, her mind?
Was she only a doll, with a hole?
Left dangling
All had not gone as hoped or intended…
She found herself naked, suspended!
The lack of control…
Fucked in this and that hole!
Quite decidedly sordid, but splendid!