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Where to look?

What a lot of bright sun and fresh air,
To be facing with so much flesh bare,
On a damn nudist beach!
People gazed, each at each;
God! She wished she had more hair down there!

G rated

It was flimsy, and small, and opaque,
Like a fig-leaf, cheap, tacky and fake,
Just a little g-string,
A tight, scratchy wee thing,
She wore, just for decency’s sake.

Hirsute, to suit

He was funny, and slightly perverse;
He liked rubbing her “little fur purse”!
It was all that he craved;
He just loved her unshaved,
And a cunt might be called things much worse.

Circumstantial evidence

Well, of course, she was angry and shaken,
Hung-over, next day, to awaken,
Lips smudged, sticky, nude;
It seemed plain she’d been screwed,
Though a girl might, perhaps, be mistaken!

Notorious

She’d acquired a vague notoriety,
Shunned among local society;
Something to do
With her liking to screw,
And not caring too much for sobriety.

The groupie

She’d been dreaming about it all summer,
But, backstage, the night was a bummer;
The singer was blotto.
“Make do” was her motto;
She got herself off with the drummer.

Morning mystery

When he asked, she said “Don’t be absurd!”
(She’d, at first, thought she must have misheard).
So they chatted and drank;
She was later quite blank,
As to how, when and where it occurred!

Fallen woman

She allowed him a squeeze and a grope,
And set foot on the slippery slope.
Soon she fondled him too;
He grew hard, as men do,
She undressed, then, to give him more scope.