What he’d done, (which could not be defended,
To such depraved depths he’d descended),
Though rather extreme,
She explained, it would seem,
In the end…well, it rather depended!
Come together…over me
Clad in just her sweat, latex or leather,
It wasn’t a question of whether
She’d come, or with whom,
Or with what in her womb,
But of timing, to both come together!
Lonely at the top
At her trade, she’d about reached the pinnacle,
Pretty, but cold, hard and cynical;
Talented, true,
But she tended to screw
In a way that seemed sterile and clinical.
His pound of flesh
Pretty, headstrong, and apt to be rash,
For a fee, she’d adapt to the lash.
A sore bum, a fat purse;
It could well have been worse,
And she was, so to say, strapped for cash.
Rubbed out
She found out, still a child, in the tub,
That her clitoris felt nice to rub,
Which she did all her life,
Mistress, mother and wife;
Now it’s pretty much worn to a stub.
Peer pressure
A girl’s hymen’s a thin thing and frail,
Which, lest a girl’s charms should go stale,
For reasons unknown,
Is remarkably prone,
With some slight inward pressure, to fail.
Beyond the pale
A good girl, till she went off the rails,
She runs round with single white males.
She screws and drinks gin
With her partners in sin,
In comparison with whom she pales.
Castles in the air
A rich Texan, who bought Windsor Castle,
Then, not without quite a big hassle,
Transported his palace,
Rebuilt it in Dallas,
And hired a maid and a vassal.
Something in the air
He drew near her, catching a whiff
Of her muskiness, wondering if
She, as randy as he,
Wanted him, and if she
Had yet noticed his cock getting stiff.
Comings and goings
She used often have men come to visit,
Who spoke of her charms as exquisite.
She made love in ways
Meant to thrill and amaze;
That they came, then, is no surprise, is it?