“Though I bear you the utmost affection,”
He said, “if you have no objection,
I’ll now call you bitch,
And do bad things, for which
I confess an extreme predilection!”
Confession
With her sweetest, most charming expression,
She murmured, “I have a confession…
Before we were wed,
I perhaps should have said
That I worked at world’s oldest profession.”
Body language
They’d gone out after work for a drink;
Did she wink at him then, or just blink?
She’d unbuttoned her blouse…
Was it done to arouse?
Was she teasing? What must the guy think?
The proof of the pudding
Lots of blokes choose a wife by her looks.
Girls try hard, till they get in their hooks.
Even if she puts out,
It’s still, quite beyond doubt,
More important to know how she cooks.
Such is life
He’d had one chance at life and cocked up…
He’d been scared he’d be bloody locked up!
It was sheer bad luck…
Two young kids, their first fuck,
And she got herself fucking knocked up!
The off-chance
A girl goes to the pub with a plan;
To attract a nice gullible man,
Who might pay for her drinks,
Whom she’ll kiss, if she thinks
He might fancy a fuck, if he can.
Questions
He’d selected a nice place to dine;
His first question was “Beer or wine?”
Then things went on okay,
So what else would he say,
But “A nightcap then? Your place or mine?”
Beer glasses
He was unwashed, unshaven and rough.
She was only a nice bit of fluff;
But a few glasses more,
And what each of them saw
Was beginning to look good enough!
Nobody's perfect
Every woman has certain small flaws,
Which a man, if he’s prudent, ignores.
She’s flat-chested? So what,
If she’s good in the cot?
And for God’s sake, avoid giving scores!
Undaunted
In short dresses, she sashayed and sauntered,
Big tits and and great arse that she flaunted.
She dressed like a slut,
She smoked, drank and talked smut,
Didn’t fuck though, just wickedly taunted.