As she lathered her bosom with soap, her
Next-door neighbour peeked, in the hope her
Daydreams were of him,
Though the odds did seem slim
That he’d ever be able to grope her.
Flashpoint
She’d been acting quite sluttish, I gather;
She’d worked him up into a lather.
She flashed them again,
And I guess that by then
It was pretty much all open slather!
Petty crime
Who’d have thought that she’d hold such a grudge?
A quick kiss, just a small lipstick smudge,
A light pat on her bum,
(Well, okay, that was dumb,)
And I did give her left tit a nudge.
Scotch courage
She’d had too much to drink, I suspect,
Which had had the desired effect;
She just sipped at her scotch
While I fondled her crotch,
Her tits too, since she didn’t object!
Wearing the pants
He said “That’s it, my pretty young friend;
Squeeze your tits, pout your lips. Good! Now bend;
You can take off your shirt,
But just lift up your skirt,
And present your appropriate end!”
Hooked
He had no chance at all, the poor chap, he
Was hooked when she sat on his lap; she
Wore just a loose robe,
And she chewed his earlobe,
And purred “Well, don’t you want to unwrap me?”
Natural selection
She embarked on her marital quest
With a truly remarkable zest,
As she, suitor by suitor,
Allowed them to root her,
To work out which one did it best!
The scientific approach
Women’s menstrual cycles are lunar;
The moon dictates when, and no sooner,
They come into season,
And thus, one would reason,
Are keen to slip under the doona.
Equal and opposite reaction
Don’t you know, silly girl, that the more you
Complain and demand I withdraw, you
Just increase my ardour,
And make my cock harder,
Like dozens of women before you!
Burn the bra
Women’s breasts, big, small, whatever sort,
Should hang free; for this Women’s Lib fought!
There’s no prettier sight
Than girls’ tits, free by right,
Without visible means of support!