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!”
The tools of seduction
Young and foolish, a bit of a rager,
Be up for whatever, he’d wager!
A couple more drinks,
She’ll be ready, he thinks…
Bondage, whips (all good fun, nothing major!)
Logical phallusy
She was pretty, but too intellectual…
Contemplate anything sexual,
First she’d ask why,
Then compose a reply,
Predicated on being contextual.
Backhanded compliment
Did the damn woman mean to be humorous?
“God!” she said. “Though I’ve seen numerous
Cocks in my day,
That huge thing, I must say,
Takes the cake! Is it possibly tumorous?”
All cats are grey in the dark
He just wanted some pussy, some bint,
But was hard up. In fact he was skint,
So he’d have to make do,
If he wanted a screw,
With the whore with the hare-lip and squint.