When a breast is confined in white silk,
Or else satin, or aught of that ilk,
It is bound to elicit
An urge for illicit
And rapturous suckling of milk.
Tag: limerick
The razor’s edge
There’s no reason at all for girls shaving,
Except for erotical craving,
But half of the fun
Is in having it done,
And the prospect of then misbehaving!
Barnyard bliss
From the barnyard came cackles and screeches,
From chickens and other small creatures:
Content in the mud,
Amidst feathers and blood,
Knelt the farm-boy, with unbuttoned breeches!
The work-around
“Oh you cannot put that there,” she said,
“Until after the day we are wed,
For I’m saving that niche,
But you can, if you wish,
Put your thing in my bottom instead!”
Rearing to go
She was nude, on all fours, with a saddle:
With some fellow mounted astraddle.
She whinnied and bucked
And screamed out to be fucked,
While he spanked her bare bum with a paddle.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder
By involvement in carnal relations
With ladies who’ve had amputations,
Exotic delights
Are in store for your nights,
And some curious new variations.
Hoop
In the Members’ Bar after the races,
In jockey’s cap, corset with laces,
Her g-string and boots,
To wolf-whistles and hoots,
Miss Boyd-Parker was put through her paces.
Touch
A young fellow who does what he pleases
Treats lightly the social diseases:
He doesn’t mind much
About physical touch
But he handles girls’ panties with tweezers.
Warmth
There’s a shy little fellow, called Norm,
Whose particular quirk takes this form:
With giggles and snickers
He pilfers girls’ knickers,
If possible while they’re still warm!
Keeping cool
That delightful young lady, Miss Watt,
Wears no knickers whenever it’s hot.
In the summer and spring
She wears hardly a thing,
And she shaves off the hair on her twat.