In the front pew, throughout the long sermon,
The squire’s wife squirmed in her ermine.
She grimaced and twitched,
And she scratched where it itched:
It was plain she was crawling with vermin!
Tag: itch
Rubbing it makes it worse
What to make of this intimate itch?
She rubbed idly, not wearing a stitch…
Not unpleasant, she thought…
Was it something she’d caught?
Or just horniness? Goodness knows which!
Forest habitat
She reached down to her pussy, to scratch
In her pubic hair, thick as a thatch.
“I should shave it,” she thought.
“Must be something I caught,
Or more nits are beginning to hatch.”