She danced helluva fine hootchy kootchy!
Her g string was gen-yoo-ine Gucci.
Between sets, she’d cruise,
Sit on laps, drink some booze,
And for ten bucks, she’d get real smoochy!
Tag: prostitution
And she probably cheats at cards
Amply bosomed, nice bum and long-legged
“Any chance of a root? Please!” he begged.
She said “Yes. For a price.”
Not quite love, although nice,
But the bloody bitch bloody reneged!
Love games
Quite amused, although slightly offended,
(She knew that he only pretended)
She’d fuck like a whore,
Then he’d stop at the door,
And leave money “for services rendered!”
Bumping bellies
Belly dancing’s a curious thing;
Tassels, veils, a few bits of string,
A provocative dance
Done without any pants,
Trading favours for baubles and bling.
Rainy day woman
Men she fucks, in some way, she makes pay;
While the sun shines, she figures, make hay,
Presents, cash, some extortion,
Just as a precaution,
To bank for the old rainy day.
Want a rubber, duckie?
“You! Young man!” she cried. “Come here, duckie!
“First time? Well you’ve just struck it lucky!
A tenner, alright?
Mind, it’s been a big night,
And my pussy’s a little bit mucky!”
Call me Daddy
The young whore, in fact just an apprentice,
Laughed drunkenly, non compus mentis.
He squeezed her soft bum,
Mumbling “Don’t tell your Mum”,
While he screwed her, in loco parentis.
Love, approximately
Said a saucy victorian doxy,
“I’m sorry milord, but I’m poxy.
Though, tell you what, mister,
Why not root my sister?
I’ll watch, You can fuck me by proxy!”
For services rendered
Sex was something she rather enjoyed;
To be called a whore made her annoyed!
Other women were kept
By those with whom they slept,
Whereas she was, at least, self-employed!
Splashing in the bilges
The ship’s cook loves a root, and to earn
A few bucks, the crew fuck her in turn;
A quick brush of the lips,
Then it’s stowed amidships,
Mostly fore, till it’s sore, then astern!