A cute pussy, so fluffy and sweet!
Friendly too, and distinctly on heat!
But is being in season
A good enough reason
For being gang banged in the street?
The whole sex thing
Self-possessed, poised, refined, upper crust;
The whole sex thing, though, left her non-plussed!
Must one do it unclothed?
Need one not be betrothed?
She undressed, nonetheless, though she fussed!
Hope springs eternal
Champagne pussy, but just beer budget!
No clue what to do, but he’d fudge it!
He gave her a wink
And he bought her a drink;
If he asked now, she couldn’t begrudge it!
No illusions
Fucking’s fucking, she thought, crude and graceless,
That romance crap totally baseless.
When in the right mood
She quite liked being screwed,
Though the men that she rooted were faceless.
Au naturelle
It was plain, once her tits were unholstered,
They’d never been surgically bolstered.
Her arse, he could feel,
Was bouncy and real!
Good Lord! How that girl was uphostered!
Familiarity V contempt
Yes, he’d rooted her (rather delightful),
To show that he could, (which was spiteful),
To prove her a slut,
Which he had, of course, but
They were sort of in love, which was frightful!
Pantomime
He unfastened her brassiere clasp.
She let out a theatrical gasp.
“Gosh, you’re naughty!” she cried.
“Yep!” he said, with some pride,
Both her tits snugly now in his grasp!
Sabbath morn
Waking sticky and damp, a bit hazy,
She thought “Wow! Last night was just crazy!
Five guys! Maybe more!
Well, no wonder I’m sore!
I’m a slut, maybe. Yeah, but not lazy!”
Post-feminism
A post-feminist girl, analytical,
Saw sex as mostly political;
So lower class,
Being fucked in the arse!
Yet to not do so seemed hypocritical!
Bad Mothers’ Club
Each third Friday, the Bad Mothers Club
Meets for lunch at a nice discreet pub;
They drink, tell filthy jokes
And discuss sex and blokes,
While the nanny looks after the bub.