Girls, come puberty, soon as they bloom,
Await mostly the same pleasant doom;
To be noticed by men,
And desired, and then
Be deflowered; who knows, though, by whom?
Vlad
At the sight of his penis, words failed her!
Shocked, for what good it availed her,
Brave little lass,
Though she fought him, alas,
Soon, arse up and face down, he’d impaled her!
The serpent’s tongue
His intentions remained quite opaque.
The poor girl, with her virtue at stake!
She did love him, she thought…
Did he just want his sport,
To just fuck her, then leave her, the snake?
The actress
A downright unforgivable slur,
The suggestion that slut might be her,
Who’d consorted with lords,
Once, when treading the boards!
Married now, rich! And what if it were?
Rigor mortis
The young whore peered into the coffin.
“Poor Shamus! He visited often.
A terrible shock!
Such a lovely big cock,
Which, I see, death’s done little to soften!”
Bon vivant
Panting, dripping with sweat, her breasts heave.
God! Such stamina! Hard to believe!
She’s exhausted strong men;
Pausing, now and again,
For more bubbly. Such damn joie de vivre!
Doing the dirty
She could act quite the slut, when it suited,
Get drunk, flash her tits and get rooted.
Most nights, in fact, though,
If asked out, she said no,
And stayed home and, like, just self-polluted.
The scruff of the neck
“Enough pissin’ around, woman, feck it!
He shouted. “Don’t lick it and peck it!
My wife does that shit.
Enough fingers and spit…
Open wide, take a big breath and neck it!”
Teleology
What on earth possessed God to construct
Such an orifice, cleverly tucked
Up between a girl’s thighs,
(Think of Adam’s surprise!)
If not, plainly, of course, to be fucked!
Smelling a rat
She sobbed “Father, I’d much have preferred
Had you just simply taken my word
That I don’t touch hard liquors…
And sniffing my knickers!
Disgusting! And bloody absurd!