Not much hair on her pussy, just fuzz.
When she touches it though, as she does,
If she rubs it just right,
She discovered one night,
Just by chance, there’s a nice kind of buzz!
Tag: masturbation
Cuban girls
They’re laid back, women down in Havana.
No sex today? Maybe mañana!
They drink rum and dance,
Love a bit of romance,
Or, for lack of a man, a banana!
The id and the ego
She’d been used like a slut, hurt, disgraced.
She recalled it with lust, yet distaste,
But she’d do it again,
Which, as Freud would explain,
Masturbation, of course, just displaced.
Purring pussy
Just a thin thatch of pussy hair, fuzz;
When she rubbed it, of course, as one does,
Well, a little below,
It felt funny, although,
Not unpleasant, a nice kind of buzz!
Making do
Randy, reckless, what might do the job?
She thought. Cucumber? Corn on the cob?
Carrot? Candle? Shampoo?
A wine bottle? Her shoe?
Wait! That’s it! The stair banister knob!
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?
Overcome
She would, later on, frequently wonder where
Things went wrong. Touching him, under there!
Something came over her…
There in the clover… her
Tits… face… hands… belly and underwear!
Narcissa
She admired her naked reflection,
Front, back, side-on, bloody perfection!
Too damn good for him,
She thought, choosing a slim
Silver vibrator from her collection.
Fair call
“You’re a damned slut!” her husband said snidely.
“Well, yes, I do spread myself widely”,
She said, with a smile.
“It’s more fun, by a mile,
Than to sit round and scratch my cunt idly!”
Stage door Johnny
Dearest Father, young Algernon wrote.
Met a charming soprano of note.
I dined with her last night;
What an utter delight!
Such soft hands, such a slender, deep throat!