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.

The aftermath

It had been rough… well, more or less rape,
Her tits mauled, lots of slap, bump and scrape…
Though she’d yelled, punched and scratched,
She was sorely outmatched…
Dribbling cum, she lay, pussy agape.

Antrim

There was a young girl from Antrim,
Who was had by a man, on a whim…
Though she thought it quite fun, 
Later, all said and done,
She’d have liked if it hadn’t been him.

Pro tempore

When they fucked, he was rough, sometimes scarily…
Still, he would do,  temporarily…
Yes, he might curse,
Maybe rape her… or worse…
Only maybe though… not necessarily.

Small things

She’d been raped, in a stable, a stall…
He wore glasses, she’d later recall,
Well-made shoes, a nice hat
They’d been watched by a cat…
And his cock was surprisingly small.

Ambush

The poor girl was deceived and much wronged…
Their assault was by stealth and two-pronged,
One in front, one behind,
Nasty, scary, unkind,
And exhausting… and rather prolonged.