Of what little mystique she had left
Miss Fitztwiddle must now be bereft:
I’ve been told (and it shows),
By a fellow who knows
She’s got calluses round her poor cleft.
Month: December 2024
Productivity bonus
A young factory worker called Jill,
With a sigh, said she’d been through the mill.
She had rooted from foreman,
Right down to the storeman:
The night-shift is rooting her still!
All yours
“Pick an orifice, any,” said Jill.
“I’m all yours, till you’ve quite had your fill!
But one thing I insist upon,
That’s being pissed upon,
After you’ve done what you will.”
Colour blind
There’s a certain young lady called Jackson,
So horny, her nickname is klaxon:
She’ll hop into bed
With men black, brown or red,
And, on Sundays, the odd Anglo-Saxon!
Jot and tittle
Of allure she’d not an iota,
Her manner removed, or remoter,
One might have thought men
Were quite out of her ken,
Yet in fact she got more than her quota.
Bulldog
An old fellow, with wheeze and huff-puff,
In a voice rather British and gruff,
Said “I can’t get it up
Like when I was a pup,
But the worst is, I can’t get enough!
Beer
He was rough, he was tough, he was grubby.
She knew she should go home to hubby.
She thought it was funny;
To fuck in the dunny.
Next morning she blamed that last stubby.
Fore and aft
She agreed he’d be aft, I’d be fore:
It was something she’d not tried before,
But along came two more,
And she said “I’ll be sore,
But I’m game, if you want to be four!”
Drunk and Disorderly
She was drunk and her clothes were disordered.
The boys liked the view this afforded.
She did a lap dance
Till one came in his pants,
Then she stripped while the others applauded.
She did things they thought only a whore did:
One fucked her, then several more did,
Then more that they rang:
It became a gang-bang,
But to say more would only be sordid.
Nympho
In her state of psychotic confusion
Miss Jones has a charming delusion,
That nothing but screwing
Is really worth doing,
Not wholly a silly conclusion!