Bloody women! They tease and they promise,
Then back off, withhold themselves from us!
You try your best lines,
Meanwhile missing the signs,
And get left with a wilting John Thomas!
Month: March 2016
Cherry picking
Her first time. Nothing big, in the end.
No one special, some guy, just a friend;
“It’s not love, I’m afraid.
I just want to get laid,”
She said. “Kiss and stuff, though… like… Pretend!”
Getting on
He got hard, less hard, less and less often;
Got hard, then the bastard would soften!
Still wanted it though,
So he’d still have a go,
Till laid out, cold and stiff, in his coffin!
Hard cash
Though cashed up, he was vulgar and sleazy,
Fat, ugly, bad smelling and greasy.
He paid good, up front,
For a piece of her cunt,
But not he, nor the dollars came easy.
No need for draws
For young girls, back then, up in the hills,
Rootin’, shootin’ were practical skills,
Screwin’ out or indoors
Brothers, uncles, in-laws,
Passed around, till they’d all had their fills.
All foreplay
She got naked, got down on all fours.
“Why you doin’ that girl?” “Just because …
Shit! I’m horny as hell!
And just so you can tell…
Anytime, any which way, I’m yours!”
Pickup lines
Bored, she flagged down a ride in a pickup.
Her day though was in for a hiccup!
He turned down a track,
Threw her ass on the back,
Said “Git naked! This here’s a stick-up!
Reverse snobbery
Just a tart, her life no bed of roses,
Called slut; people looked down their noses,
But no damn Plain Jane;
She drank only champagne!
Consolation, of sorts, one supposes.
Natural beauty
Husband dead, drunken bastard, unmourned,
Jewels, fine clothes and bonnets long pawned,
And still young, more’s the shame!
So she went on the game,
Lovely body, most nights, unadorned!
A stacked deck
Lingerie Paris lace, a fur stole,
Perfect tits, and a face like a doll,
Cunt as sweet as a peach;
What’s that figure of speech?
A girl’s fortune? Her ace in the hole!