In a palette, though suitably muted,
Befitting a young lady tutored
In elegant ways,
She distinctly conveys
That she’d very much like to be rooted.
Tag: rooted
Dashed hopes
The poor girl sat at home and just moped.
She’d been kissed, promised things, squeezed and groped;
She’d have rooted him too,
If he’d asked. All too true!
How she wished that she had, then eloped!
In the back seat, in a country lane
She’d run out of excuses, essentially.
Now she’d get rooted, potentially,
There in his car,
Down to panties and bra,
But he dropped off to sleep, providentially.
Monkey business
Bloody jungle! A bloody great sauna!
Jane, bored, rooted some of the fauna.
She’d liked chimpanzees,
Grunting, down on her knees,
The gorilla’s dick, sadly, had torn her.
But sperm can swim
She could seem pretty smart, when it suited;
She never, she said, ever rooted,
Except in the sea,
Where the semen would be
If not washed clean away, then diluted.
Giving head
The female of the Mantidae genus
When rooted does something quite heinous
She bites off the head
Of the male, it’s said,
Then devours him, all bar the penis.
Rite of passage
Cherry popped, she felt changed, somehow girlier,
Tits firmer, pubic hair curlier,
Flirty, not shy,
Mildly wondering why
She’d not got herself rooted much earlier!
A woman’s intuition
The next morning, half naked, mind foggy,
She vaguely recalled feeling groggy.
Perhaps she’d passed out.
She’d been rooted, no doubt…
Since her panties were sticky and soggy.
A head start
Though tits-wise she had not much to show,
Getting rooted might be touch and go.
“Want to give me some head?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” she said.
Better quick than just that much too slow!
Falling woman
He’d corrupted her, led her astray,
Morals, clothing, both in disarray,
Though not rooted yet, quite,
It would be a long night,
And where’er there’s a will, there’s a way!