One is not so much mutton, she fumed,
To be drooled over, fucking consumed!
Stuffed with forcemeat, perhaps?
God! The nerve of these chaps!
Better bred, one had hoped, or presumed!
Tag: fucking
The low moral ground
“God! You smell like low tide in a marsh!”
She exclaimed, which he thought a bit harsh.
“Wash or shave, you choose which;
You’ve been fucking some bitch,
And her cunt’s still all through your moustache!”
Angels on the head of a pin
The discussion became esoteric;
“The term virgin,” shouted one cleric,
“Still does not preclude
That she might yet be screwed
In ways other than fucking generic!”
Begging the question
All the flowers, the sweet little rhyme,
Was his courtship charade, mere mime?
Did he truly intend
They be wed in the end,
Or was fucking him wasting her time?
Reasonable doubt
The strange thing about dating a twin
Is that even nude, just in his skin,
She can’t swear under oath
Which one (possibly both)
Has been been fucking her, even once in!
The truth hurts
So, they’re fucking. It starts to get rough.
She screams “”Punish me!” Just off the cuff.
“I’m a slut! I’m a whore!
Fuck me! Slap me some more!
Sort of half true, but mostly all bluff.
Plucky chick
Steely-eyed, she said “Just watch it, buster!
Your fucking’s been pretty lacklustre.
Heads up, you dumb jock,
As they say, today’s cock
Is tomorrow’s worn-out feather duster!”
The cost of doing business
In a downtown hotel in LA
A young hooker sucked off the valet,
The security crew
And a porter or two,
A few guests. What a fucking melee!
Learning on the job
Though a sin, as he knew, lust burned on;
He was constantly hard and turned on,
So he went to a whore,
With whom fucking, and more,
Could be practised, learned in, (or learned on).
That’s life
Normal sex play, of course, she enjoys,
With her fingers, or close friends or toys.
Though at times she’s annoyed,
Fucking’s hard to avoid…
She’s a girl, and well…boys will be boys.