She was game, the young bride, quite intrepid;
She knew that the Lord was her shepherd,
But though he took charge,
His cock wasn’t that large…
And his lovemaking sort of, well, tepid.
Tag: virgin
The proof of the pudding
Well of course I’m a virgin! she’d say,
Once convinced she should go all the way,
But them damn doubting Thomases,
All lies n promises,
Soon found she wasn’t, someway.
First date
Her first date! Her mum whispered “Now, Bessie,
He seems nice. His outfit’s quite dressy,
But, suit or no suit,
He’ll be wanting a root,
Which, you’ll find, will be terribly messy!”
Switch-hitter
She remained still naive and complacent,
Her sweet sexuality nascent…
The treacherous bloke
Switched his target mid-stroke…
From her cunt to the hole just adjacent!
Never to be repeated offer
Husky-voiced, dusky-skinned, musky-scented;
Big-bosomed, all girl, not augmented;
And hymen intact!
(Well, in actual fact,
Though not broken, extensively dented.)
Wishful thinking
Getting older, still virgin, such lust!
It’s a case of get rooted or bust!
Drooping tits, pushing thirty,
Thoughts constantly dirty,
Her pussy just gathering dust!
Call of the wild
She attracted men’s amorous glances
At morning teas, suppers and dances;
Her damn chaperone
Wouldn’t leave her alone,
When she’d rather have taken her chances!
The sins of the mother
God said no, but poor Kate wasn’t listening,
Legs spread, her young pussy glistening!
Lord! how she’d come!
“Wake up, girl!” called her Mum,
“We’ll be bloody well late for the christening!”
Skewed logic
“I’m a virgin,” she whispered demurely.
Kissing could not hurt though, surely?
Touching her, there?
She, in fact, didn’t care
If he finished up fucking her, screwily.
Omar the tent-maker
Quite a well-endowed chap, was young Omar;
Too well! Virgin still, Well, so far!
Though most girls just said no,
She said “Give it a go,
Maybe using your cock like a crowbar.”