“Did you like that?” she said, with a grin,
Gobs of semen still dripped from her chin.
Well, of course, he said yes,
As she slipped off her dress,
Out of which she was, more so than in.
Month: August 2012
Both sides of the story
A man lies, makes false promises, flatters;
To men, nothing but the fuck matters.
They brag to their mates,
While, at home, the girl waits,
Hymen, clothes, reputation in tatters.
Flappers
In the twenties, girls’ bosoms were flatter,
Though size, as such, didn’t much matter;
They fluttered their lashes,,
Wore pearls, bows and sashes,
Were tied to men’s beds by the latter.
Chiaroscuro
Her loose blouse, sheer, silken or crepe,
She’d left carelessly buttoned, agape.
Through the fabric light danced,
Light and shadow enhanced…
Her breasts’ movement, their texture and shape.
Observing the niceties
Said the butler with suitable deference,
“Madam, you’ll pardon the reference.
Still, I must say
That that dress does display
Your tits well, as a matter of preference!”
Coming clean
Her cunt frothing with soap or shampoo,
Fingers flying, she comes! I am too!
Did she know I could see?
Did it it have to be me?
Did she not even give a damn who?