As a sexual service consumer,
Beware of false promise and rumour;
If tits are inflated,
The girl’s over-rated;
It helps to keep one’s sense of humour!
Month: May 2011
Debriefing
He was anxious to know if it hurt,
As she hitched up her knickers and skirt.
“Well, a bit, just at first,
When I thought that you’d burst
My insides,” she said, smoothing her shirt.
In good hands
When she touched it, she gasped at it’s size;
When she stroked it, God! What a surprise!
Through her fingers there slipped
Globs of stuff that now dripped
From her hands and her belly and thighs!
Bottoms up!
For a girl, she could handle her grog,
Till she passed out, and slept like a log.
When she rolled up her eyes,
Her skirt rucked up her thighs,
He thought “Fuck it! Why not, you sly dog?”
French kisses
If you get a chance, have an affaire
With a French girl, a maid or au-pair;
They like sex, comme tu sais,
Two or three times a day,
Anytime, anyhow, anywhere!
Who'd have thought?
“She’s a slut,” people said with distaste;
She’d been named, shamed and shunned and disgraced,
By damn hypocrites, who
Thought of rooting her too…
Harsh, judgemental, and rather misplaced.
Her mind elsewhere
As she moaned and her orgasm neared,
She’d later regret it, she feared…
Though being seduced,
Was quite fun, she deduced,
Sex itself was decidedly weird.
The eyes of love
She rolled over and wiped herself, wearily,
Watched the man watching her, blearily.
What was his name?
Once they grunted and came,
Men resembled each other quite eerily.
Slip of the tongue
When she told him “I love you”, it merely
Rolled off her tongue and was sheerly
Dumb verbal luck;
Still, the preceding fuck
Had been nice, though she’d put it so queerly!
Love the one you're with
Though she swore that she loved the boy dearly,
Maybe, too, meant it sincerely,
Feeling that way
With whomever she lay,
Well, who knows whom she loved, or more nearly?