Her poor head was beginning to spin,
From an excess of rather nice gin,
Which was all very well,
But she couldn’t quite tell
If or which fucking hole he was in!
Tag: gin
Double trouble
She developed a taste for for good gin
Which increased her temptation to sin…
Like one night, seeing double,
She got into trouble
By fucking some guy… and his twin.
Quite a tonic
She’d got drunk on some very good gin,
Found herself, with some chap, skin to skin,
In a lather of sweat,
Whom she’d only just met,
Semen-splattered from pussy to chin!
In praise of the juniper berry
To make his seduction plan viable,
Gin would be pretty reliable;
Blotto enough,
She might not give a stuff…
Or at least become frisky and pliable.
A moral dilemma
The pearl necklace, a nice little trinket;
He may want to fuck her! Don’t think it!
A man of that kind?
If he does, does she mind?
And this gin that he’s poured, should she drink it?
Strayed
Having given in, frightened, dismayed,
She knelt down, right there, naked, and prayed.
“God, I know it’s a sin,
But I’m blaming the gin…
Could it be, somehow, maybe, okayed?”
Gin, ironic
When the Mistress got into a mood
She’d sit nude in the parlour and brood,
Drinking gin, cursing men,
By whom, had she, back then,
Just said yes, she might well have been screwed!
Beyond the pale
A good girl, till she went off the rails,
She runs round with single white males.
She screws and drinks gin
With her partners in sin,
In comparison with whom she pales.
Gin fling
He was named, shamed, and charged with assault,
But, in fairness, it wasn’t his fault:
They were both drunk on gin,
He was more out than in,
When the girl got cold feet and called halt.