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!
Tag: slut
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!
The general and the particular
It did seem she did rather resent
The term slut, which he’d only half meant;
Yes, he’d gone a bit far,
Although most women are,
To a greater or lesser extent.
First impression
Not too awful, she had to confess:
Not much bleeding, no tears, no stress.
She’d quite liked her first fuck.
(Maybe sheer dumb luck).
“A bit slutty”, she thought, “though, I guess!”