Crush

He was older than her… her first crush…
When they kissed, her heart pounded… a flush,
On her face, on her chest, 
As he fondled her breast,
Then her cunt… and she came with a gush!

Off his game

Getting late… he’s a bit off his game…
Copped a knock-back… a bit of a shame,
But the pub’s full of tarts 
With hot cunts and cold hearts…
Yep, he’ll get himself fucked all the same!

Sooner or later

She’d said no, of course, at the beginning,
To fuck, she well knew, would be sinning…
But kissing was great, 
When they went on a date,
And his hands… yes, the dark side was winning. 

Fail

With her skirt up, bent over a railing,
Poor girl, struggling, groaning and wailing,
Her writhing and bucking
Enhancing his fucking,
Resisting, refusing… but failing.

Mae West

She was always a good sport, Mae West,
Proud as punch of the size of her chest…
Let ‘em joke, let ‘em smile,
She’d just take it with style…
“Call a life jacket Mae? Be my guest!”