Belly dancing’s a curious thing;
Tassels, veils, a few bits of string,
A provocative dance
Done without any pants,
Trading favours for baubles and bling.
Tag: limerick
Rush hour
For some reason she couldn’t explain,
She was horny. Resistance was vain!
She’d come twice with her hand …
Would that man understand,
And just root her, right there on the train?
Unconditional
Pheromones: scents of which just a whiff
Makes a pussy wet, penises stiff,
And a fuck’s in the air,
Just a question of where.
Here? Now? Yours or mine? But not if!
Mouth-watering
He was not one to fuss, as a rule, over,
Make of himself a damn fool over
Some little slut.
That was very well, but
God! The bitch had a body to drool over!
Misgivings
On the whole she thought sex over-rated.
The stains and the mess it created!
One’s parts on display,
The undignified way
One was treated! That’s what she most hated.
Excess
She considered herself quite progressive,
Not hung-up or shy or possessive…
Wife swapping? Okay.
Public sex, bondage play…
But the gang bang, she thought, was excessive!
Gotta have a gimmick
Getting older, she said, is a drag;
Wrinkles, big bum, tits starting to sag.
So it’s old dog, new tricks!
Things come into the mix
Such as handcuffs, the whip and the gag!
Little black dress
In her bum-hugging little black dress,
Just containing her tits, more or less,
If a chap tries his luck,
Whispers “Fancy a fuck?”
You could say she’s already said yes!
Her mother would be proud
“Yeah”, she said, “I’m a little bit skanky,
My pussy’s sometimes a bit manky,
A slut, yep, I know,
But wherever I go,
I at least have clean knickers and hankie!”
Thank God for small mercies
The damn scoundrel, he turned on the charm!
When undressed though, much to her alarm,
He was blessed with a cock
Like a horse! Quite a shock…
Though it did her no permanent harm!