Though admittedly vulgar and blunt,
His preferred term for pussy is cunt…
Pussy’s timid and quaint,
Cunt’s more plain, with the taint
Of the street, though it might cause affront.
Tag: cunt
Personal space
“My cute pussy, to which you allude,
Though you called it my cunt… rather crude…
Is my own to employ,
For my personal joy,
Not for yours,” she said. “Go and get screwed!”
Bespoke
Her cunt fitted his cock like a glove…
Soft kid leather… no push and no shove…
Like wet chamois inside,
He reflected, and sighed…
Lips like petals, rose-sweet, made for love!
Shock therapy
Pounded, mauled, tits and cunt bruised and battered,
Dishevelled, distracted, wits scattered,
She lay taking stock…
“Gosh!” she thought. “What a shock!
But he’d fucked her though. That’s all that mattered!
Simplicity
Is she simple? Or is it an act?
“Stick it where? Could you be more exact?”
She said. “Here? In front?”
(Indicating her cunt)…
She’s a great root, though! That’s for a fact!
Job description
She did things God and law both forbade,
But by doing them brought in more trade…
Up her arse, up her cunt…
To be brutally blunt,
For what else is a lowly whore made?
Finger lickin”
Mum with kids, unenhanced, no spring chicken,
But breasts and thighs still finger-lickin’…
She sucked good as most,
And she loved a spit-roast…
Just the thought of it made her cunt slicken!
Yankee go home
She was quite understandably cranky.
Damn loud, pushy, smarty-pants yankee!
Just fucked her, like that…
Wham, bam, thank you ma’am… splat…
She thought, wiping her cunt with her hanky.
Throw her back
A young mermaid, washed up in the kelp…
A sly cove heard her seal-like yelp…
Though he searched, back and front,
For some sort of a cunt…
“Can you talk?” he asked. “Can’t you damn help?”
The science is in
The research on the sexual act
Is a study that’s far from exact:
For the male, the goal’s
Get his prick in her hole(s)…
Her cunt, mostly. That much is a fact.