by Peter Loaf
My girlfriend’s urging, “You need a date!”
My aging cherry, a bloomer late
A friend of a friend
With just the right bend
Bondage his passion, “Really first rate”
Too many panics, needing restraint
Mastery needed, playing the saint
The guilt removing
Innocence proving
A Master Masters, about to faint
Stripped to stilettos, arms in a sleeve
Buckle up zipping, a guy named Steve
A virgin nervous
The Saints preserve us
My freedom forfeit, I cannot leave
Informed consenting, knowing the rules
The contract signing, the Queen of fools
Libido urging
His power surging
Pussy juice dripping, twin spreading pools
I kneel before him, ready and ripe
His bippy swishes, I give a “Yipe!”
A welt on my titty
A touch to my clitty
Slice to the bottom, a burning stripe
Subbie space searching, needing it now
Storming emotions, in season cow
Cherry unbroken
Wilds of Hoboken
“Fuck me my Master, please show me how!”
Tapping my pussy, crimson and wide
Kneeling as ordered, no way to hide
My smell is rising
My stink surprising
High hot and spurting, the cane applied
His member stiffened, its dripping tip
Position assumed, ready to rip
Butt up presented
Struggles prevented
Hands on my body, a python’s grip
A moment so painful, a hungry cunt
His donkey konger, standing in front
My Hymen shedding
Subbie space heading
My passions peaking, bearing the brunt
Screaming in distance, know it is mine
Soreness forgiven, feeling so fine
Pony-cock filling
Subbie so willing
Thunderfuck cumming, like finest wine
High wide and open, blood on my thigh
Thanking my Master, I do not lie
My cherry cider
His cock inside her
Post coital grinding, contented sigh
Weekend restraining, the games we play
He is the hunter, I am His prey
Wet dreams fulfilling
Pussy juice spilling
Trusting the stranger, I’ll never stray
