Sex and love, not to be disingenuous,
Much as the link may be tenuous,
One may still find
Become blurred in one’s mind,
If the fuck is sufficiently strenuous!
Tag: fuck
Democracy in action
“Dear Diary. Oh boy!” she wrote.
Tom said “Pussy or arse or deep-throat?”
Harry laughed, said “Tough call!”
I said “Fuck! Do ’em all!
Fuckin’ airtight, boys, that’s my damn vote!”
Do you have a reservation?
She had some reservations, quite rightfully;
“Suit yourself then!” he said spitefully.
“Fuck you! Okay!”
She said. “Have it your way!”
And it wasn’t so bad. Well, not frightfully.
Quid pro quo
He’d bought dinner, she’d told a rude joke,
A good sign. Should he ask for a poke?
Fish and chips ain’t no feast,
But a blow job at least?
Fuck it! No! Life’s too short! Go for broke!
The dish and the spoon
It began watching each other piddle,
Progressed to a mutual fiddle;
The two childhood friends
(Can you guess how it ends?)
Became fuck-buddies! Hey-diddle-diddle!
His lucky day
Might they root? It remained to be seen.
He was nice, and he seemed to be keen.
Since she’d flirted a bit,
Even showed him some tit,
Not to fuck him would be a bit mean!
Conditional approval
“Get your hand off my pussy!” she hissed.
“Stop at once! Fuck off! Cease and desist!
Well, alright. If you must…
But you do know, I trust,
I’m at least honour-bound to resist!”
The disgruntled wife
“Dear chap,” she said, “Are you asserting
There’s some sort of harm in my flirting?
Good God! If, by luck,
I perhaps get a fuck,
It’s, at least, thank God, mildly diverting!”
Roll play
Though his motives remained rather murky,
She went along, giggling and perky.
“Yes! Whip me please Master!
Ouch! God! Fuck me faster!”
She screamed, coming, eyes rolled up, jerky.
Love, approximately
Said a saucy victorian doxy,
“I’m sorry milord, but I’m poxy.
Though, tell you what, mister,
Why not root my sister?
I’ll watch, You can fuck me by proxy!”