She’s a slut, well, according to fable,
Can drink a man under the table!
What’s more, by repute,
She’s a fabulous root,
So he’s hoping she’ll be true to label!
Tag: slut
The sure thing
She’s reportedly fond of the booze,
Not particular much whom she screws;
For the cost of a drink,
And a nudge and a wink,
It would seem that a fella can’t lose!
Fisticuffs
Not to be thought a slut, she’d resisted,
Kicked, scratched, screamed and cursed, bucked and twisted;
All part of the game,
She’d been fucked all the same,
The best part, strange to say, being fisted!
Accosted
Sidling up to him, tiddly, well-liquored,
She purred, “Wanna do somethin’ wicked?”
Her tits brushed his arm,
As he blushed in alarm.
The damn slut, known by all as loose-knickered!
Small sins
Not a slut, but a frequent transgressor,
She said to her father-confessor.
Was sex still a sin,
If not all the way in,
Or, perhaps, she hoped, somehow, a lesser?
The biddable wench
A nice biddable wench, often bidden,
A slut, who can’t quite keep it hidden,
Can’t even decide
If she likes best to ride,
Or to be underneath, and be ridden!
Reconciliation
When he found out his girlfriend was cheating,
He called her names not worth repeating,
(Okay, bitch and slut.)
He forgave her then, but,
Well, of course, her cute arse took some beating!
The actress
A downright unforgivable slur,
The suggestion that slut might be her,
Who’d consorted with lords,
Once, when treading the boards!
Married now, rich! And what if it were?
Doing the dirty
She could act quite the slut, when it suited,
Get drunk, flash her tits and get rooted.
Most nights, in fact, though,
If asked out, she said no,
And stayed home and, like, just self-polluted.
Waste not, want not
She was plainly hard up, the poor lass,
Just a cheap little slut, to be crass!
Though he found it distasteful,
It seemed rather wasteful
To not fuck the trollop, alas!