She’d gone out dressed decidedly daringly…
“Why me?” she wonders despairingly.
Wrong time, wrong place…
Cum all over her face,
As he’s rooting her, roughly, uncaringly.
Tag: rape
The spider’s lair
She’d gone into his lair all unwarily.
“Just passing by!” she’d said airily
What’s with this guy?
That strange look in his eye…
Yep. He’s acting a little bit scarily!
Perversity
She’d been wondering which would be worse…
When he rooted her, boy, did she curse!
Being ravished by force,
Bad enough, quite, of course,
Not her pussy though… quite the reverse!
Unchivalrous
When he raped her, she tried to be brave,
But, of course, ne’er forgot, nor forgave,
(Although whom could she tell)…
And then buggered, as well!
Damn Sir Francis, the dastardly knave!
Trespass
Though the evidence wasn’t conclusive,
As far as it’s being abusive,
To fuck her did seem
(And a court would so deem),
At the very least, somewhat intrusive.
Sleep no more
As roots go, it was just mediocre.
But still, the damn practical joker,
He’d have his sly fun…
Pull her dress down when done…
Easy in…out…in… What if he woke her?
Curly one
They were equally up for it, thus
To have thrown the guy under a bus!
She’d enjoyed the fuck, right?
Didn’t put up a fight…
How on earth was it rape then? Discuss.
He doth protest too much
“To be honest, I don’t give a damn!”
Sean exclaimed. “The whole thing, twas a sham!
Twasn’t rape! Twasn’t nuttin!
That woman was mutton,
Dressed up as a tender young lamb!
A lack of propriety
Mister Beasel, the sweatshop proprietor
Cast a long, lecherous eye at her;
Pretty, deaf-mute,
She’d be lovely to root,
Like the other poor girls, only quieter!
Initiation
She was buxom, big-arsed and plump-thighed.
The poor boy! He had no place to hide!
And him, scarcely developed,
Half-smothered, enveloped,
Bestraddled, cunt-struck, hers to ride!