“See her, naked! Vile, blasphemous bitch!”
Roared the priest, whip hand starting to twitch.
“Incubus, or foul slut…”
(The whip’s lash stung and cut…”
Witch or harlot, it matters not which!”
Tag: slut
Ice melting
She was frigid, but once, if ignored,
She’d been fingered and licked some, she thawed,
To become quite the slut…
Well, not utterly, but…
Very fucking unladylike! Lord!
Educational opportunity
Those big titties, her tight little arse;
She’s a constant distraction in class.
Little slut! Thinks she’s cool…
Well, she’ll stay after school,
Fuck him too, if she wants a damn pass!
Below his station
Pretty, drunk and half naked, eyes glassy,
A slut, he supposed, cheap and brassy,
But still… what damn luck!
So he gave her a fuck,
In the lane out the back. Pretty classy!
Spit and polish
“I’m a slut, yeah”, she freely admitted,
A cock in each end, being spitted,
But fucking first class,
Deep throat, pussy or arse,
In fact any-damn-where that it fitted!
Truth will out
She dripped lace, and her gowns were of satin,
Of course her behavioural pattern,
Her lewd escapades,
Showed, despite her charades,
She was still nothing more than a slattern!
Beneath her dignity
When she woke the next morning, she thought “If I’d
Had a stiff gin, and been fortified,
Maybe, then… but…
To be fucked like some slut!
Well a woman, of course, was quite mortified!”
The language of love
She was deaf-mute, poor slut, but could mime…
Lusty hip-thrusts, lewd gestures… sublime!
Splendid titties as well,
Sparkling eyes! Truth to tell,
To not root her had seemed a damn crime!
Perspicacity
She came fast, with a guttural groan,
Sighed, and said “That was close to the bone,
To have called me a slut!
Which I am, frankly, but
How on earth could you ever have known?”
Free will and determinism
She showed plenty of boob, which was great,
Wore no panties, which didn’t equate
To her being a slut,
Not conclusively, but
At the very least, though, tempting fate!