He had quite a long prick… a bit thinnish…
Which didn’t, however, diminish
Her pleasure one bit…
She cooed “Come on my tit,
And just pull down my dress when you finish!”
Tag: limerick
The melting of the ice
Even nude she was rather aloof…
“Not so fast!” came her frosty reproof.
He kept on, all the same,
And he’d swear that she came…
Maybe twice… though of course he’d no proof.
Undress code
He did think there was something afoot,
When she said “I’ll just go to the toot.”
She came back, as she’d planned,
Her damp knickers in hand…
A plain message, and splendidly put!
Bad to worse
He plunged in, and she let out a curse…
“That’s my arsehole!” she cried, rather terse.
“So it is,” he replied.
“It was hard to decide…”
Which of course only made matters worse.
For better or worse
How on earth was she somehow betrothed
To this man, whom she heartily loathed!
Bad as that, though, may be,
How much worse still to see
His smug smirk and his body unclothed!
Unprepossessing
God, she thought. What an absolute pig!
Fat and slimy… His cock far from big…
Not for love, not for money!
So ugly, it’s funny…
All capped by his ill-fitting wig!
The slippery path
If she followed the rank, slimy thread,
She could see where his blandishments led…
From this afternoon tea
To a walk by the sea…
To the stained, sweaty sheets on his bed!
Springboard
When he heard her bedsprings start to squeak,
Her young brother would hasten to peek,
While she squealed and moaned,
Being thoroughly boned,
To observe Jack, her boyfriend’s technique.
Diplomacy
She thought “Fuck! That cock’s fucking immense!”
So as not, though, to cause him offence…
(It would ruin her cunt,
If her fucked her in front)…
“Fuck my arse,” she said. Just common sense.
Mortification
She thought “Fuck! That big dick up my bum!”
Took another big swig of her rum…
And, though none the less mortified,
Suitably fortified,
“Right. ” she sighed. “First just your thumb.”