Not a tart, but a slut still, essentially,
(Liked a good fuck, confidentially!)
Lovers to burn,
But loved each one in turn;
Rooting one then another, sequentially.
Author: pete
Counting her blessings
Naked mostly, both off and onstage,
Body still pretty good for her age;
Though the wrong side of thirty,
Still randy and flirty.
Booze, tips, tricks, why work for a wage?
Teacher’s pet
Teacher’s pet, damn Lolita, Head’s tart,
Stroked his cock, brought her mouth to said part;
Not hard yet, wait a while,
She thought, flashing her smile;
She’ll just give him a little head-start!
It’s all in the mind
Harems’ eunuchs, though widely reputed
To be fat and sexless, once neutered,
Still longed for the touch
Of a woman and such,
Though, of course, only wishful and muted.
As soon be hung for a sheep as a lamb
He’d undone every last lace and button,
In haste, quite the sexual glutton!
Her dress fell away;
Naked flesh on display …
Lovely wench! She’d been lamb dressed as mutton!
Wrong place, wrong time
They’ve been rooting for almost two weeks.
He tries anal. “No way, man!” she shrieks.
“Ain’t it just self-explanatory?
Butt-fucks ain’t sanitary!
Right? Then your damn asshole leaks!”
Growing pains
In her own mind, at least, all grown up;
Boys, sex, booze, got it pretty sewn up.
Sneaking out late at night,
Folks don’t know. Or they might.
Any case though, she’ll never own up.
Throwback
He preferred women bushily muffed.
She was bald-pussied, barely a tuft.
“Real women don’t shave,”
He grumped… “Back in your cave,
You neanderthal arsehole!” she huffed.
Give and take
Disillusioned, his marriage a sham,
His wife’s pussy as tight as a clam,
He began an affair.
Did his wife even care?
Not a fig. Not a gold-plated damn!
The optimist
A great body, but curious psyche;
The tattoos, the piercings. Crikey!
The dreads like Bob Marley,
Not shaving, the Harley,
Nice tits, but the rest’s a bit dykey.