He’d brought flowers. She’d been wined and dined,
So she knew what the cad had in mind.
His hand crept up her thigh…
Defloration drew nigh…
To which fate she was blithely resigned!
Tag: virgin
A vexed question
He considered her tight little slit;
Would his, now rock-hard, cock even fit?
It might stretch, he supposed,
Though it seemed tightly closed.
Might it not, if he tried, simply split?
Pop goes the weasel
Flushed and wide-eyed, her pulse all aflutter,
“Be still, heart!” was all she could mutter.
He said “Should I stop?”
“Oh God! No!” … Then a POP!
In it slipped, like a hot knife through butter!
Cherry blossom time
Cherry popped… and, of course, she’d survived!
They both laughed a bit, joked and high-fived.
“Did you come?”
She said “Yes,
And I guess, more or less,
If I ain’t coming still, I’ve arrived!”
Transfixed
The poor girl, still a virgin, unchurched,
Nonetheless, somehow, found herself perched,
To her horror and shock,
On his lordship’s large cock,
As she sobbed, and she shuddered and lurched!
Reasonable doubt
She was sexy as hell, though not clever.
She’d never had sex! Never! Ever!
He said “Well, you should!
Sex is awful damn good!”
And she answered “Yeah. No. Yeah. Whatever!
Opportunity knocking
At sixteen, still a virgin (though barely),
Life treated her bloody unfairly,
She thought, with a pout,
Having once more missed out,
When the chance of a root came so rarely!
Window dressing
Miniskirt, halter, stockings of mesh,
Maiden offering, smooth, shining flesh!
Breasts as firm as ripe fruit,
His to have and to root!
Perhaps virginal, tender and fresh!
Truth in advertising.
“I’m a virgin,” she said. “Bona fide!”
But, of course, it turned out that she’d lied.
She’d been rooted by men,
Not just now and again,
But extensively so, far and wide!
Naive
The poor girl, so naive and so shy,
When he fondled her, thought that she’d die!
When he whipped out his cock!
In her state of mute shock,
She could not even think to think “why?”