In their bedrooms, the girls pinned up beef-cake;
A few of them started a sweepstake…
They might win a prize
For “Most Guys” or “Prick Size”,
Judged by photos they took as a keepsake!
Malice aforethought
One soft breast in each hand gently cupped,
She was his, to defile and corrupt!
Although within the law,
Still he did lock the door,
Lest some well-meaning fool interrupt!
Friends with benefits
With their puberties contemporaneous,
Fate, chance, things rather extraneous
Played out, so when
She first thought about men,
He was there; their first fuck just spontaneous.
Smells like team spirit
As the locker room’s big mirror fogs,
And the girls all strip off their wet togs,
In the shower they squeal,
Share soap, cop a feel,
Play turns into slippery snogs!
Private dancer
As she pirouettes round them the men all hope
Maybe they’ll get a kiss, then a grope.
“God, please,” he begs,
“Let me part those long legs,
And be up in there, pushing her envelope!”
The laps of the gods
The boys think she’s a gift from the gods;
A boy winks, and she giggles and nods.
A quick brush of their lips,
Then it’s down with their zips,
And in no time, they’re shooting their wads!
Ride 'em cowboy!
What a beauty! A prize! She’s a keeper!
He’d thought she was shy. What a sleeper!
He squeezes her breasts,
She bucks back and protests,
As he pulls himself into her deeper!
First impressions
She looked quite immature, initially;
Only a girl, superficially.
Later she proved,
By the way that she moved,
She was plenty of woman, officially!
Car salesmen and hookers
Though she might have more extras to sell you,
Whatever sweet lies she may tell you,
You’re only a john;
You’ll be in, out and gone,
And an up-and-down root’s still good value.
L'invitation
Disait elle “Il est tard, il fait froid,
Pourquoi ne pas aller chez moi?
Tu peux passer la nuit,
Boire un cognac, et puis,
Quelque chose dans mon je ne sais quoi!”