She tried bondage… not hard to arrange,
Though of course it at first felt quite strange…
Any self control gone…
And, though sore later on,
It at least made a bit of a change!
Tag: sore
Bad things
Just a half-drunken Friday night tryst;
“Do bad things to me, darling,” she hissed.
“Treat me like I’m a whore.
Leave me broken and sore!”
And at that stage, they’d only just kissed.
Sabbath morn
Waking sticky and damp, a bit hazy,
She thought “Wow! Last night was just crazy!
Five guys! Maybe more!
Well, no wonder I’m sore!
I’m a slut, maybe. Yeah, but not lazy!”
Private party
Tired, sore, bruised, her private parts battered,
She nonetheless felt sort of flattered.
Just think! All those guys!
From her thighs to her eyes,
By their various semens bespattered!
Private lives
Though her sexual pastimes were quirky,
Her past and her present both murky,
No matter how sore
Were her arse or her jaw,
She still turned up to work looking perky!
Misgivings
She was in the end, just a bit, peeved,
Convinced, quietly, she’d been deceived.
He’d said women of class
Loved a cock up their arse;
She was hurt, sore, and somewhat aggrieved.
Flawed
The poor girl had just one fatal flaw,
She liked violence, sex, blood and gore;
It was all rather ghoulish,
Perverted and foolish,
And made her anaemic and sore!
Not fragile
“Do it harder,” she cried, “I won’t break!
See how much of your cock I can take!
Stretch my pussy some more;
I don’t care if I’m sore,
Or can’t piss, or I bleed or I ache!”
Love's wounds
A girl’s first fuck involves blood and gore:
When it’s over, her cunt might be sore,
But love’s wounds quickly heal,
And girls mostly feel
They wish that they’d done it before!