She’d been screwed everywhere that was hollow,
Gagged, giggled, and made herself swallow;
She felt like a slut,
Which she rather liked, but
She did wonder what else was to follow!
Tag: slut
XL
Pushing forty, but quite well-preserved,
She came on in a manner reserved,
But then did things in bed
Which confirmed what was said;
The term “slut” did seem richly deserved!
Almost immaculate
Other women, perhaps hold a grudge,
Call her slut; who are they, though to judge?
Though she’s not yet his wife,
On the page of her life
Is no blot, just a bit of a smudge.
Rose coloured glasses
But to whom could such language refer?
Whore and slut… every possible slur!
They were jealous, those blokes,
And their crude, filthy jokes
Couldn’t possibly be about her!
Irrefutable logic
“I’m a great root,” she said. “Indisputably!”
Eyes narrowed, gazing inscrutably
Into his own.
Then, in wearier tone,
“I’m a slut; I was born so, immutably.”
Slut
She was known around town as a slut;
The false charge got her right in the gut!
Yeah, she did like a shag…
Did that make her a slag?
She was awfully good at it, but!
Big-hootered
She was pretty, broad-hipped and big-hootered,
A slut, or at least thus reputed,
But looks are deceptive;
She wasn’t receptive,
Would not, indeed could not, be rooted!
Who'd have thought?
“She’s a slut,” people said with distaste;
She’d been named, shamed and shunned and disgraced,
By damn hypocrites, who
Thought of rooting her too…
Harsh, judgemental, and rather misplaced.
Stirred, not shaken
Though the size of it made her uneasy,
And though she felt sluttish and sleazy,
She’d rather have died
Than not have it inside,
Though the stirring-about made her queasy.
Klutz
Being, sadly, a sexual klutz
Lacking charm, style, good looks and plain guts,
He was not in the hunt
For the more refined cunt,
But he did do alright with the sluts.