Greasing palms

Bosom swaying, the way she was bending,
She purred “Would sir like happy ending?”
Slick hands on his prick,
That would soon do the trick,
Just, of course, what they’d both been intending!

Promise unfulfilled

Bloody women! They tease and they promise,
Then back off, withhold themselves from us!
You try your best lines,
Meanwhile missing the signs,
And get left with a wilting John Thomas!