Lots

Breathless, flushed, overcome by the hots,
She discards her dress… naked… she squats…
Her mouth slides down his cock…
Utter bliss, joyful shock…
Till he cums down her throat… lots and lots!

Well primed

“Fuck my arse off!” the cheeky tart goaded…
He pounded her till he unloaded…
Great gushers of cum…
A good cupful, then some…
Bloody felt like his balls had exploded!

Wicked

A damn slut… maybe worse… fuckin’ wicked…
Foul mouth, them big tits, and loose-knickered…
She smooched this young kid…
“Wanna fuck?” Which he did.
“Fuck my arse if you like, too,” she snickered.

Just a phase

She’s sixteen, in a difficult phase,
Dresses slutty, smokes dope, spends her days
Fucking boys she calls friends…
They might be… it depends…
Friends are friends, sometimes, curious ways.

Ins and outs

“I’m no slut,” she said, pursing a pout,
“Though I ain’t one for goin’ wiffout…”
She stomped off in a huff,
And he thought “Fair enough,
Now I know the damn prick-tease puts out.”