Within decency’s scrupulous bounds,
When a girl flaunts her huge buxom mounds,
It’s quite fun to assay,
By what methods one may,
Their net weight in both kilos and pounds.
Tag: limerick
Feathered friend
An old maid called Elizabeth Barrett,
Dines Saturday nights with her parrot,
On sunflower seeds
And a salad of weeds,
And a nice economical claret.
Less is more
It was not her short dress that appealed
Nor even the charms it revealed
The thing that I find
Occupying my mind
Is the part that it barely concealed!
A shuttered existence
An old lady, her heart all aflutter,
Peeks out every night through her shutter,
In wicked delight
At the sensuous sight
Of the dogs making love in the gutter.
Do unto others, then split
Should you have a risque or lewd thought,
You may do what you wish, and you ought,
Because not doing so
Is no fun, as you know,
Therefore do, but by God, don’t get caught!
Buying votes
Said a militant young suffragette,
“Women cook and keep house and beget:
Should you give us the vote,
We would faithfully dote,
And be constantly willing and wet!”
Swimmers
There’s a miniscule worm, called the sperm,
Which, by virtue of wriggle and squirm,
After penile emission,
May come to fruition,
As someone of whom it’s the germ.
Niche market
‘Twixt the thighs of a maid, there’s a slit,
In whose folds, and a marvelous fit,
Is a welcoming niche,
Wherein, should a man wish,
He can push his prick, if she’ll permit.
Value for money
Said a species of sexual scholar,
“Look always for sex amidst squalor:
The lower class whore
Is inclined to do more,
Hence one gets much more sex for one’s dollar.”
Starting and finishing
Mrs Bradley professed a revulsion,
For lubricant gel or emulsion:
It might help get started,
But what if she farted?
It might cause the organ’s expulsion.