In her orgasm’s ecstatic throes,
Every woman, within herself, knows,
When his semen is spilled,
That she’ll feel fulfilled,
That to do this was something she chose.
Tag: limerick
Morality
It’s a curious concept, fidelity,
Strange philosophic duality,
Being untrue,
Screwing somebody new,
Is to face and deny one’s mortality.
Life goes on
Women too have their sexual drives,
Even overworked mothers and wives,
Who in bed, late at night,
Become things of delight:
Thus mankind sputters on and survives.
Leda and the swan
Leda lay on the bank, pale and wan,
Pride and virtue and dignity gone:
She exclaimed “What’s the use
Of resistance, if Zeus
Wants to fuck me, dressed up as a swan?”
Going with the flow
Their wild foreplay, at times, comes to blows,
She grows frenzied, her love-mucus flows,
Her sex, swollen and slick
On his rampaging prick:
It’s the way women are, I suppose.
Rock and roll
I once met this thin jock and his moll
And I asked if they played rock and roll.
He said, squeezing her tit,
“Well, we listen a bit,
But we mostly just play cock and hole!”
Her bosom
Her soft bosom was warm and commodious,
Farts even sweet and melodious:
Lie in her arms
And all other girls’ charms
Became dull… but comparison’s odious.
Evolution of sex
Human women’s soft rumps have no tails;
Their twitching, though, still attracts males.
Their cunts smell of musk,
And, like any mollusc,
They leave silvery, slippery trails.
Never the bride
She held hordes of admirers in thrall,
So damn many she couldn’t recall:
Since she couldn’t decide
To which one she’d be bride,
She said “Fuck it, I’ll just root ’em all!”
Prenuptial
Giving in to her earnest betrothed,
She lay down with him, flushed and unclothed,
But his fevered caress,
And the sweat and the mess,
Made her think sex a thing to be loathed.