Kate and Jane have a similar figure;
(Kate’s tits are perhaps a bit bigger.)
They’re equally cute,
And they both love a root,
Although Jane, perhaps, roots with more vigour!
Tag: limerick
Hush, hush, whisper who dares
Though she wasn’t allowed out with boys,
She contented herself with her toys;
She’d kiss Mummy goodnight,
Then she’d switch off the light
And soon come, with a whimpering noise.
Flawed
The poor girl had just one fatal flaw,
She liked violence, sex, blood and gore;
It was all rather ghoulish,
Perverted and foolish,
And made her anaemic and sore!
Under their noses
When girls cheat on men under their noses,
Men’s love makes them blind, one supposes;
They might look like wrecks,
Bodies reeking of sex,
And yet still keep on coming up roses!
At the doctor
With her heart in her mouth she disrobes;
His cold hands press and squeeze her pink globes,
Then he shines a bright light
On her pussy, clenched tight,
Where his rubber-gloved finger now probes!
Big-hootered
She was pretty, broad-hipped and big-hootered,
A slut, or at least thus reputed,
But looks are deceptive;
She wasn’t receptive,
Would not, indeed could not, be rooted!
The gasp
He unfastened her brassiere clasp;
She emitted a small startled gasp.
But the next part was best,
When he licked at each breast,
With a tongue like a hot, fleshy rasp.
At her service
Lady Anne woke and couldn’t recall;
Was he dark? Was he handsome and tall?
Being nude, she deduced
She’d been raped or seduced.
“Ma’am,” said Jeeves, “Ahem… will that be all?”
Shoosh!
When he cursed and blasphemed, she said “Shoosh!
Just relax, line yourself up and push.
Count to ten, start again,
Wait until I say when,
And stop beating around in my bush!”
The French wench
Bold Sir Percival, fighting the French,
Came across an inviting young wench.
He thought “God, what a charmer!
And me in my armour,
Locked in without spanner or wrench!”