.
Walking in the forest was I
when I heard a plaintiff cry
begging me to give her aid
a desperate and 'prisoned maid.
Locked up in a tower was she
all alone with her misery.
“I'll let my long hair down for thee
to climb up here and rescue me”.
I thought this was a little unwise,
a wicked glint tinged my eyes,
a knowing smile, and feeling smug,
I gave her hair a hefty tug.
Down she fell into my arms,
muttering curses, gushing charms.
Over and over we tumbled for fun
rolling about in the midday sun.
I noticed the rip in her dress
so her thigh I did fondly caress.
Respond in kind she promptly felt,
loosening off my trouser belt.
And her father's lock on her chastity
was no match for my skeleton key.
Even though he'd chained the door,
his daughter is a maiden no more.
© Pagan Paul (2017)