Half truths, fibs, little harmless deceits,
When on Tuesdays and Thursdays she cheats…
No, she’s not at the gym…
She’s in bed rooting him,
The young, rough (so well hung) bloke she meets!
Author: admin
Gifted
For a man… well, a boy, so damn young’
I must say, he’s impressively hung,
She thought, coming again,
And again, and again…
And so handsome! And such a smooth tongue!
Laughing stock
“Oh my God! He’s the fucking court jester!”
Thought Gwendoline. “Trust him to pester
A woman so much…”
A sly word, a sly touch…
As the smug little varlet undressed her!
Grey matter
These days young chaps must needs be way warier…
Those parts… what… shall we say hairier
Might be no-go.
If she doesn’t say no…
Then of course it’s a rather grey area!
Hard to please
All her talk about love… bloody soppy!
Worse still, how she got herself stroppy…
Or sad… don’t know which…
When he fucked her, dumb bitch…
And her much-travelled cunt was damn sloppy!
As it was
In the days of the Raj, in the tropics,
One talked, over gin, on such topics
As young native cunt,
And the thrill of the hunt…
Well, except for a few misanthropics!
Miss Vanderbilt’s lament
It was not just he’d done the girl wrong,
Or his frankly enormous damn schlong…
(A good foot long, one’s heard!)
But the fact it occurred
On her Louis the Fourteenth chaise-longue.
Subtext
“Fuckin fuck off!” she said, mean and vicious.
“Quite right,” he thought. “Bein’ suspicious.”
He’d get in her pants
If he got half a chance…
And by God, she’d be bloody delicious!
Maestro
Her breasts lolled underneath the white satin…
His cock, though, refused still to fatten…
So what? He still fucked her,
That sly old conductor,
With swoops, twirls and thrusts of his baton!
Efflorescence
In her teens, as she filled out and bloomed,
A new life of adventure soon loomed…
Boys with cars (smooch and cruise),
Parties, drugs, sex and booze…
To all this, not unpleasantly, doomed.