I’m quite pretty, she thought. That I know,
Ample bosom as well, a nice show,
To entice , win men’s hearts…
She imagined their parts,
Hard and strange, in her holes, down below.
Tag: love
Realist
She ain’t waitin for love n romance…
Gonna let some young dude in her pants…
Fuck her till she walks funny,
Drips cum from her cunny…
Fucked good, don’t leave nothin to chance.
Housekeeper
He’s convinced she’s the ideal spouse
A great fuck, and as meek as a mouse…
He’d sleep less well, poor man,
If he knew of her plan
To divorce him and keep the damn house!
Hope
Her new boyfriend’s built like a gorilla…
Love? Tenderness? Not a scintilla.
She’s just like those dolls,
Skin, hair, tits and some holes…
To be used… hope he isn’t a killer!
Forlorn
The poor man, forlorn, love unrequited…
His dream woman less than delighted…
His gifts, flowers too
All returned… What to do?
Maybe just fuck the bitch, uninvited.
The fit
Quite the lad, he’d had lots if affairs,
But this girl… she like answered his prayers…
He said “This might be love…
Her cunt fits like a glove…
Find some gloves fit like this… buy two pairs!”
Dear Joan
He wrote “Darling, you love me quite clearly,
Sadly, though, fuck me just yearly.
Once a week, twice
Would have been rather nice…
But too late. Fuck yourself. Yours sincerely.
Fool
So he’s thinking “Just kiss her you fool!”
She’s so pretty, so sexy, so cool,
And that look in her eyes…
As she puckers up, sighs…
And, like, all he can do is just drool.
The hunt
Not the tenderness of the embrace,
Not the search for love… that’s not the case…
To his own mild surprise
It’s the bagging the prize,
The lust, madness, the thrill of the chase.
Skin in the game
He slipped into her cunt, snug and warm,
For some comfort, in some shape or form…
“It ain’t love, like,” he thought,
“But life’s hard, and too short…
It’s just, like, any port in a storm.”