He’s a bit of a fuckin’ fat slob…
If he’d only get on with the job!
All his puffing and wheezing,
And grunting and squeezing,
And got nothing in but the knob!
Tag: knob
Postman’s knock
She rubs, licks it, all shy-like and shivery;
Big and hard, knob sort of livery,
Gives it a suck,
Up and down and … Oh fuck!
Here his cum comes! Splat! Special delivery!
Picking and choosing
With both hands she took hold of his shaft.
“Like a pick handle, boyo!” she laughed.
“Such a knob! Fuck me puce!
To not put it to use
A damn woman would have to be daft!”
Dumbstruck
The poor git stands there, gob-smacked, and gawks
At her pussy and pendulous norks,
Paralysed, legs gone weak,
Quite unable to speak,
Knob and eyes hanging out on their stalks.
Deep and meaningful
She regretted her virtue gone cheaply;
His cock, small at first, then rose steeply,
As thick as her wrist,
A knob big as her fist,
Which, when in her, affected her deeply!
Still life
She got off, as a rule, on her own,
With her dildo, a bottle, a bone,
Or her finger, a shoe,
A zucchini would do,
A brush handle, a door-knob, her phone.
Technical virgin
Her claim, frankly, was hard to discount,
That she’d managed to make him dismount,
When he’d barely begun,
And, when all’s said and done,
Just the knob getting in doesn’t count!