She was what you’d call ripe for the picking,
A nice girl, too nice to be sticking
Things into and hurting…
But she’d done the flirting,
And intimate biting and licking.
Tag: limerick
Love hurts
She was blind-folded, gagged and restrained.
He could do what he liked, but refrained,
She moaned softly, to please him,
To thrill him and tease him:
Suspense was what most entertained.
She’d been carefully, patiently trained,
Her submissiveness deeply ingrained.
Helpless, lewdly displayed,
She felt proud, not dismayed,
It felt holy. It felt preordained.
Though her freedom of choice was retained,
It aroused her to be whipped or caned.
The pain wasn’t excessive,
He wasn’t possessive,
She knew she could go, but remained.
When he used her this way, she felt drained.
Giving in, giving all, still she gained.
Pain with pleasure felt pure:
Sweet test to endure,
To drown in, till ecstasy waned.
Weak with want
Flushed and panting, she begged “Put it there!”
He, confused, whispered urgently “Where?”
Weak with want, where she lay,
She had just strength to say,
“I don’t care… anywhere that there’s hair!”
Roxy musing
Mused Roxanne to herself, “What’s to lose?
The encounter is bound to amuse,
He’s a hunk of fresh meat,
I’m a bitch and on heat,
It’s an offer too good to refuse!”
Savoir faire
With her blinds drawn and soft bedside lamp on,
His French maid extracted her tampon,
Exclaiming “Mon Dieu!
Quel grand objet, Monsieur,
Et plus grand, je me pense, quand c’est rampant!”
Sex is political
As she lewdly displayed her introitus,
She said “It’s political, coitus,
An act of sedition,
Of seeming submission,
Lest men, should we not, then exploit us.”
Classy
When skiing I always take classes,
To watch through my polaroid glasses
My skiing instructor’s
Firm tits and adductors
And fellow (girl) students’ nice arses.
Wicked intent
It was long, hard and thick, and it bent:
It would turn her cunt into a tent.
Growing deeper and wider,
She drew it inside her.
Amazing where all of it went!
Practice makes perfect
She sprawled naked and stared at the ceiling,
Her moist nether parts thus revealing.
She said “That was nice,
Though I know you’ve come twice,
Could we do it just once more … with feeling?”
Miss Edwards
For obliging Miss Millicent Edwards
No’s one of life’s little-said words:
A wink or a glance
And she’ll have off your pants
And be rapidly steering you bedwards.