“Bless me, Father,” said Claire at confession,
“For weakness and sin and transgression,
But heavens above,
I fuck only for love!
Do you think God might make some concession?”
All in the family
A young man at confession confessed,
To the damnable sin of incest.
Said the Father, “My son,
‘Tis a foul thing you’ve done:
Tell me more of her snowy white breast!”
Celibacy
On account of his sinful condition,
A priest is, by strict definition,
Through sleeping alone,
Inescapably prone
To the nocturnal sin of emission.
Not missionary style
Said the missionary’s wife, Mrs Bingham,
Respectably dressed in plain gingham,
“I’m terribly bored
By the church and the Lord,
But entranced by the yoni and lingam!”
Trial by ordeal
A young deacon, his loins all afire,
Seduced a young girl from the choir,
With sinful intent,
Saying “If you repent,
God forgives,” as orgasm drew nigher!
The flip side
There’s a whole new erogenous zone
That’s revealed when the lady lies prone:
The alternative passage,
(Plus clitoral massage)
Is nice, but a bugger alone.
The dice game
There’s emerging a rather chic vice
Wherein people together throw dice,
To determine with whom
One does what in the gloom,
And with what sort of kinky device!
Doggy style
Though it’s strange, she did not seem upset
To be kept on a leash as a pet,
Didn’t mind being mated,
But one thing she hated
Was having to go to the vet.
Slam
A girl’s arse, I believe, is her trump:
I look first at a young lady’s rump:
I prefer pink or white,
But my utmost delight
Is a freshly spanked one, red and plump!
Fairy tale
Mister Brown is by day a bank teller.
At night he becomes Cinderella,
In stockings and gown,
In which guise he goes down
On his ebony-handled umbrella.