Well, she got undressed, lay there, legs parted…
They fucked… she seemed, sort of… half hearted…
He finished, withdrew,
And said thanks, as you do…
“Yea, no worries,” she said. Then she farted.
Tag: fart
Fouling the nest
His apology came from the heart,
Only words, but at least a good start…
Still, his bridges are burnt,
If he hasn’t now learnt,
When you’re fucking a woman, don’t fart!
Moving on
The damn bitch! Mean and nasty! Cold-hearted!
He’d loved her, of course, when it started.
It didn’t last long,
Though he’d done nothing wrong…
Just that time, when they fucked, and he farted.
The royal wedding
As a princess, of course, she was fated,
While young, to be married off, mated
To some beastly lord,
To be fucked, then ignored,
While he farted and snored, drunk and sated.
Degrees of intimacy
What’s the rule, he thought, scratching his head,
About when can a man fart in bed?
Not till after the screw?
If she farts before you?
Should he ask her? No… Better unsaid.
Old folks at home
He was rude and untidy and grumpy,
She cranky, demanding and frumpy;
He farted, she snored,
Both complained they were bored,
But they still like the old rumpy-pumpy.
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.