The Virgin

The Virgin The virgin was the daughter of a retired surgeon Who enjoyed imported beer and catching sturgeon. At a seedy hotel with no blinds and garbage bags For the provision of relief from the sun They entered by the will of an old desk hag With a hairy chin and breasts that would sadly sag. Her father's disbelief as he circled the town. In his car, no story about the library accepted, He went through her wardrobe and suspected. Still as he drove around and search the sky, the street, The windows of restaurants, and the ground His precious dirty little was nowhere to be found. An advert in the newspaper, $200 in bills, a hungry tongue And she emptied her bank account, the act was her will. She wanted a stranger, not a nice boy who told her to lie still. A monstrous walrus of hard flesh from the shower Though she knew she was the one with the power And she had appreciated his arrival upon the hour. She found his instrument shocking to the senses As she rubbed and 'polished' him back and forth Cantankerous, red, and alarming in size. The virgin soon realized the pleasures of her demise She could hardly keep her speculation in disguise Reminiscent of sharks out of the water Ready to devour the girl, as was her wish. Her father kept looking around But as she screamed in pleasure, He found she was nowhere to be found.