She was blessed with a lush, bouncy bush,
Through which, gosh, it was lovely to push!
But a faulty hair-dryer,
One night, caused a fire:
Sniff. What’s that? Whizz! Crackle! Bang! Whoosh!
Month: March 2011
Different strokes
Censorship is all mirrors and smoke,
Censors men wearing decency’s cloak,
Who watch porn all day long,
Call it evil and wrong,
But meanwhile, can’t resist a nice stroke.
Booze and romance
She was dressed in a way to provoke,
To turn on any red-blooded bloke,
Who perceived a fair chance,
After booze and romance,
She might just let him give her a poke.
Unbearable lightness
She wore jeans of such indecent tightness,
And thinness and colour and lightness,
That when they got wet,
From the rain, or her sweat,
A man’s thoughts deviated from rightness.
Dark thoughts
To us all come dark thoughts and unbidden,
Unspoken, consuming, but hidden,
Of old taboos broken,
And strange cravings woken,
Of acts and relations forbidden.
Intramural sports
A rebellious young lady from Dural
Found life there predictably rural.
She liked being screwed
Getting drunk and tattooed:
She was sort of a fuckable mural.
The meat market
Having sex is commodity trading,
A fact there’s no way of evading.
A fuck’s something of value
A girl wants to sell you:
Men, mostly, don’t need much persuading.
In the end, every girl has a price,
Call it courtship, or pleasure or vice.
It’s a market where man
Does the best that he can.
Like fine dining, with more or less spice
Then, of course, a wise man wants a taste.
For our purpose, presume the girl’s chaste;
If she makes the wrong call,
She’ll have given her all
To the wrong bloke, a shame and a waste!
Certain girls though, break out of the mould,
Not content to be bartered or sold.
The prospective young bride
Tries out men, to decide
Who’s to have her, to have and to hold!
Best laid plans
Though he tried out his best corny pick-up,
The girl whom he fancied his dick up
Said “No thanks. Get fucked,
I’m a bloke, nipped and tucked.”
Best laid plans tend to oft strike a hiccup!
Gin fling
He was named, shamed, and charged with assault,
But, in fairness, it wasn’t his fault:
They were both drunk on gin,
He was more out than in,
When the girl got cold feet and called halt.
Tooth and claw
She resisted, and fought tooth and claw;
She protested, and blasphemed and swore,
Till he got her tied up,
Naked, sunny-side-up,
Which, as cheating, of course, we deplore!