She enjoyed the mad thrill of a quickie,
Wore proudly a scratch, bruise or hickey,
Liked watching them sniff,
When their nose caught a whiff
Of her panties, still fragrant and sticky!
Type-cast
She was plum, she was cherry and ripe,
A dumb girl, who believed all the hype,
All the lies of the guys…
So it’s no great surprise
That she sold herself cheap, true to type.
Illegally blonde
She’s got blonde hair and wonderful jugs;
She likes beer and bourbon and drugs.
She wears tight jeans, short skirts,
And she shamelessly flirts
With strange men whom she thinks of as mugs.
Hypothetical
A nice cleavage, a flash of white thigh;
It would take a man better than I
To not look, to not muse,
Whether one would refuse,
Were it offered, and if not, then why?
High fashion
Denim shorts cut alarmingly high…
Panties glimpsed through the half-open fly…
The crotch frayed to a thread…
It could never be said
The young hussy who wore them was shy!
Odalisque
A sloe-eyed odalisque of mixed breed,
She tapped into his unspoken need;
Musky-scented and sultry,
Intent on adult’ry,
And certain, it seemed, to succeed!
The eye of the beholder
She bends over and parts her plump cheeks;
From between her thighs shyly there peeks,
Pinkly winking at him,
Silky-lashed round its rim,
That which blindly the one-eyed snake seeks.
Knowing, in the biblical sense
She knew perfectly well what it meant,
That the sheet was propped up like a tent,
Quite alarmingly so,
But she didn’t yet know
Where or how, God protect her, it went!
Of rice and men
Vegetarian women are gentle;
No dead cow for them, but the lentil.
No red-blooded male
May sniff at their tail;
For them sex must be transcendental!
Cleave to each other
With a firm grip, she feels its heft;
Two good handfuls, and plenty more left!
Then she draws what she holds
Through the velvety folds
Of her yearningly yawning pink cleft.