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.
Tag: prostitution
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!
A pleasure to do business
She looked cheap, and she was, tarted up;
Her john panting, a big-hearted pup!
He was short on allure,
Too fat, that’s for sure,
But nice to fuck, once started up!
Starting at the bottom
Being fucked by consecutive boys
Is a job that she rather enjoys,
And if some rich guy spends
Enough, she and her friends
Don’t mind being executive toys!
GST
“Have a drink! Don’t be nervous, relax!
It’s OK, you can perv to the max!
That’s what titties are for! …
Fucking’s two hundred more,
Plus, of course, goods and services tax.”