He could dance a mean tango, lambada,
Performed with finesse, grace and ardour;
The problem, she found,
As he twirled her around,
Was his cock getting harder and harder!
Tag: dance
The rhythm method
At siesta (when nobody slumbers),
Her dance teacher (tangos and rumbas)
Continued her class;
1, 2, (cock up her arse),
3, (change holes), 4, 5 … All by the numbers!
Bumping bellies
Belly dancing’s a curious thing;
Tassels, veils, a few bits of string,
A provocative dance
Done without any pants,
Trading favours for baubles and bling.
Flappers
In the Twenties, folks drank bootleg hooch,
And then down to the nightclub they’d mooch.
Pretty flappers would dance,
Without bras, with no pants;
More exciting, that way, when they’d smooch!
Seduction in the seraglio
Belly rippling, she rhythmically danced,
Pelvic muscles taut too, which enhanced
That last pleasure, delayed,
As he throbbed, as she swayed…
At which, too, she was rather advanced.
The swirl of the dance
She was lost in the swirl of the dance,
In a rhythmical, romantic trance,
But the man, you could tell,
Wasn’t under the spell,
He just yearned to get into her pants.