I’ve been weak, said the priest at confession,
Had sex with young girls, a transgression.
I’ll pray hard tonight,
Do some penance. Alright?
Anything but the scourge and the hessian!
Author: pete
Bottom line
A nice dinner, a pretty good wine;
When he asked for a fuck, she said “Fine,
Just the usual way?
For a bondage scene, say,
I’d expect an enhanced bottom line.”
Things that go bump in the night
Some damn chap into whom she had bumped,
At the bar, perhaps? Still she was stumped…
Though she gave not a toss…
But remained at a loss,
As to how, or by whom she’d been humped.
Strayed
Having given in, frightened, dismayed,
She knelt down, right there, naked, and prayed.
“God, I know it’s a sin,
But I’m blaming the gin…
Could it be, somehow, maybe, okayed?”
Tears and fears
She was tasty! Goddam finger-lickin’ !
“Go on, urged his mates. “Are you chicken?”
They’d all had a go,
And he wanted to, though,
When she’d cried, he’d felt sort of guilt-stricken.
The floral emblem
Baby-smooth, cunt shaved clean as a whistle!
It grew back, though, stiff, prickly bristle.
She thought “Fuck the razor!
Next time I’ll get laser,
Look more like a rose than a thistle!”
Aftershock
Though her pussy had taken a battering,
Still, at her age, it was flattering;
He, so damn young,
So impressively hung!
And her orgasm! Bloody earth-shattering!
Mercenary
He’d come home most nights already plastered,
And fuck her for hours, the bastard!
He’d loved her, no doubt,
Then the money ran out.
“Well,” she thought, ” it was fun while it lasted!”
Etiquette
One is not so much mutton, she fumed,
To be drooled over, fucking consumed!
Stuffed with forcemeat, perhaps?
God! The nerve of these chaps!
Better bred, one had hoped, or presumed!
The low moral ground
“God! You smell like low tide in a marsh!”
She exclaimed, which he thought a bit harsh.
“Wash or shave, you choose which;
You’ve been fucking some bitch,
And her cunt’s still all through your moustache!”