by Peter Loaf
The Rape of the Sabines is an old Roman story. When the workmen building Rome, led by brothers Romulus and Remus, finished their city they needed women to populate it. So they sent a big invite to a nearby city to come have a three day city warming party, “Bring the wives!” In the course of the revels the Sabine men were poisoned and butchered. The women found themselves suddenly enslaved, and in many cases, eventually, married.
I’ve always wondered how many of those women ended up aristocrats. They are smarter than us, you know.
The garden party, a sneaky ruse
My passed out hubby, no Earthly use
A ride home offered
Gentle hand proffered
Stranded deserted, bound for abuse
Ankle-thigh bindings, lashed to my wrists
A bundle of female, helplessly pissed
My pretending friend
Is around the bend
Dancing there naked, hung like a fist
His hands come touching, to probe and pinch
My knees he’s spreading, a lead pipe cinch
Three fingers finding
Straining at bindings
“Too tight for my taste, take her Nine-Inch”
His second comes forward, name fulfilling
Knee spreader rigging, struggles stilling
My pussy displayed
My juicy betrayed
The Sabine orgy, rape of the willing
My hip bones creaking, his giant cock
Thunderfuck lightning, key in my lock
Nipple tips tighten
As pleasures heighten
Cock in my windpipe, my screams to block
Alas poor hubby, behind the door
Hung like a poodle, always a chore
Pony filled pussy
Hot wet and juicy
Rode hard long distance, screaming for more.
