Moll Flanders Tubs
by Peter Loaf

In bra and panties, her tummy churns
I stand there waiting, the fire burns
My hand caressing
My priestly blessing
Signing my contract, her fortune earns

Sturdy chair bolted, taking her seat
Carefully wrapping, binding her feet
Her knees asunder
No bottom under
In panic sweating, smelling so sweet

Panties transparent, now that they’re wet
Her pussy pinking, so horny get
The crowd in the chairs
Their spotlighted stares
Our mission tonight, game match and set

My newbie model, pretty and blonde
The arm bar rigging, taking beyond
Mouth stuffing and tape
No way to escape
Pussy lips dripping, my chubby wand

Hand in her panties, her sex engorged
Her eyes expressive, a link we forged
The helpless maiden
Fingers invadin’
Gag garbled pleading, horny by George

So many newbies, internet subs
Horny wet dreamers, going to clubs
Moth to the candle
Trying to handle
Stage show for safety, Moll Flanders Tubs

Her legs are folded, she cannot hide
My toothbrush buzzing, the bondage bride
Her panties shredding
For clitty heading
Thin nasal screaming, her dying pride

Forcing orgasms, my stock in trade
The non orgasmic, the icy maid
So haughty and proud
Now screaming out loud
Her first time ever, a fortune paid

Her bra removing, the pinwheel rolls
Her pubes blood dotted, her swollen folds
Flapping not flying
Honestly trying
Sturdy chair holding, her nasal scolds

The crowd is noisy, behind the lights
The newbie struggles, her useless fights
Orgasmic debut
Her spreading hot phew
Pheromones stinking, Moll Flanders nights

Moll Flanders Tubs