It’s a curious concept, fidelity,
Strange philosophic duality,
Being untrue,
Screwing somebody new,
Is to face and deny one’s mortality.
Life goes on
Women too have their sexual drives,
Even overworked mothers and wives,
Who in bed, late at night,
Become things of delight:
Thus mankind sputters on and survives.
Leda and the swan
Leda lay on the bank, pale and wan,
Pride and virtue and dignity gone:
She exclaimed “What’s the use
Of resistance, if Zeus
Wants to fuck me, dressed up as a swan?”
Going with the flow
Their wild foreplay, at times, comes to blows,
She grows frenzied, her love-mucus flows,
Her sex, swollen and slick
On his rampaging prick:
It’s the way women are, I suppose.
Rock and roll
I once met this thin jock and his moll
And I asked if they played rock and roll.
He said, squeezing her tit,
“Well, we listen a bit,
But we mostly just play cock and hole!”
Her bosom
Her soft bosom was warm and commodious,
Farts even sweet and melodious:
Lie in her arms
And all other girls’ charms
Became dull… but comparison’s odious.
Evolution of sex
Human women’s soft rumps have no tails;
Their twitching, though, still attracts males.
Their cunts smell of musk,
And, like any mollusc,
They leave silvery, slippery trails.
Never the bride
She held hordes of admirers in thrall,
So damn many she couldn’t recall:
Since she couldn’t decide
To which one she’d be bride,
She said “Fuck it, I’ll just root ’em all!”
Prenuptial
Giving in to her earnest betrothed,
She lay down with him, flushed and unclothed,
But his fevered caress,
And the sweat and the mess,
Made her think sex a thing to be loathed.
Fair game
Being reckless and devil-may-care,
She accepted a mischievous dare,
Being all in good fun,
To strip naked and run,
Being chased by some chaps round the square.
Of course all of the men were aware
That the lass had drunk more than her share,
But the girl had no shame,
Just a tart and fair game:
She was up for whatever, they’d swear!
Take the outfit she’d chosen to wear:
Low-cut blouse and a skirt up to there!
She undressed on the spot
Showed them all that she’d got:
A nice arse and my God, what a pair!
They yahooed when she stood there, all bare,
In the public bar’s fluorescent glare…
As she pouted and posed,
With her pink bits exposed,
All the lads had a jolly good stare!
They yelled “Go!” and one smacked her derriere.
She ran out of the pub like a hare,
Then the men took off too,
With great hullabaloo:
Jolly sport, as the Brits say, or rare!
Well, of course, the girl hadn’t a prayer.
A man shouted “Let’s give her a scare!”
She was caught, squeezed and groped,
Victors’ spoils they hoped.
No, in love and war, all isn’t fair!