She smiled,musing “It’s awfully droll,
All this talk about God and the soul;
Lots of sex, drugs and booze
Is the life one should choose,
With a sound-track of loud rock and roll!”
Month: September 2011
Mollified
Though she worried at night for her soul,
She made ends meet by being a moll.
She made love to a mobster,
For champagne and lobster;
Nice work, and quite fun, on the whole!
Secret lives
She was known as a girl with a past;
She was said by men’s wives to be fast,
But the actual facts
Of strange sexual acts,
Had they known, would have left them aghast!
Service with a smile
For a whore, she seemed awfully sweet,
Though, of course, it might all be deceit;
Still she’d been a good lay,
And, accepting her pay,
She said “Thanks. Would you like a receipt?”
Tick, tick
She decided, lest it be her doom
To live life with a cold, barren womb,
That she’d very much rather
Have sex with the father,
No matter how, when, where, or whom.
Consider the lilies of the field
Her silk panties were rather too frilly,
Her peek-a-boo bra just looked silly;
With breasts such as those,
And a cunt like a rose,
Lingerie was just gilding the lily!
Sweet meat
She was dainty, doe-eyed, fair and slender,
Almost of androgynous gender,
Small-breasted, slim hips,
Silky hair, pouting lips;
To the taste, and to touch, sweet and tender.
Self-abuse
Masturbation does nobody harm,
Though it’s looked on by some with alarm;
It won’t make you go blind,
Make you feeble of mind,
And it doesn’t grow hair on your palm!
Paying the piper
While he fondled her fanny’s trim bristle,
He said “Would you blow on my whistle?”
She answered “Why not,
If you’ll sing to my twat,
And I might even chew on your gristle!”
Rude awakening
She thought “Jesus, I must have been drunk!”
When she woke up in bed with some punk.
He was hairy and gross,
Snuggled up way too close,
And her cunt was still full of his gunk!