Cupcake-breasted, petite, elfin-faced?
Or more earthy, tits down to her waist?
Does she need to be wooed?
Is she sluttish and crude?
In the end, it all comes down to taste!
Tag: limerick
Opportunity and motive
The alleged rape, milord, is plain fiction,
The handcuffs, the gag, the restriction
Of movement and speech,
Just a game, played by each;
All good fun! Not the stuff for conviction!
A bushel and a peck
So, she gave him a kiss, just a peck.
It was nice, so she thought “What the heck?”
Then he got out his prick,
And she gave it a lick;
It was soon in her, up to her neck!
No idle boast
Well, he’d said he was bigger than most,
But she looked like she’d just seen a ghost!
First one inch…two…three…four…
When he said “A bit more?”
She just nodded, like, totally grossed!
The missionary position
Though he’s threatened to sue us for libel;
Despite what it says in the Bible,
A young dusky maid
Turned his head, I’m afraid;
He forgot about God and went tribal!
Married life
Her bum’s big, her tits starting to sag.
If he told her she’d just say “Don’t nag!”
He smiles, sneaking a look;
She’s a pretty good cook,
And she still gives a bloody good shag!
Poetic justice
He was ugly and stupid and gross!
The term “dumb jock” would be pretty close.
Though the fuck was OK,
At the end of the day
She was glad that she gave him a dose!
Not a good time
She had PMT, moody and grumpy,
Feet swollen, her tits sore and lumpy.
He wanted a fuck!
He was shit out of luck!
Or the way to one winding and bumpy!
Precedent
He said “God, woman, don’t look so gloomy!
I just said your pussy was roomy!”
She said “Not at all!
Your damn prick is too small!
You don’t like it? Fuck off! You can sue me!”
Private lives
Though her sexual pastimes were quirky,
Her past and her present both murky,
No matter how sore
Were her arse or her jaw,
She still turned up to work looking perky!