Photo by Valentin Lacoste on Unsplash
My bosom, the Viking did plunder.
With one growl, he took me right under.
I squawked with a moan,
When he gave me his bone.
My nethers have been torn asunder.
2
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About the Creator
Ashleigh Riley
Mother of 2-Writer-Crafter-Dreamer-TV binger-Movie lover-Space nerd-dinosaur connoisseur
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More stories from Ashleigh Riley and writers in Poets and other communities.
Snow Need to Rush
I watched my breath form a small white cloud as it puffed out of my lips and dissipated before my eyes. I rubbed my hands together, blowing into them with the precious bit of warm air that remained in my lungs. My leg bounced as I stared into the cold dark world beyond the windows of my truck as they remained partially fogged up.
By Donna Fox (HKB)4 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
Raunchy! haha