Getting older, good roots ever fewer,
Loose women more hard to procure,
For kinkier thrills,
Not to waste the blue pills,
He booked two girls most nights, to be sure!
Tag: prostitution
A woman of independent means
Though seduced and abandoned, betrayed,
She refused to become an old maid;
So, despite her bad luck
Since she still liked to fuck,
She fucked five nights a week, but got paid!”
The young ladies of Italy
The flirtatious young ladies of Italy
Wear make-up to bed and dress prettily.
In the piazza
The lowliest tarts are
Dressed smartly and sell themselves wittily!
The smell of money
“Don’t you like what I’m trying to sell you?”
She asked. “At that price, it’s good value!”
She took him upstairs,
And paraded her wares;
He paid, too, but said, “Just let me smell you.”
The pimp
The girl’s pimp was a bastard and heartless,
Insensitive, brutal and artless;
She married a john
Who’d proposed, whereupon
The said pimp was left skint, pissed and tartless!
No bargain
She hissed “Psst! You want jiggy-jig mister?
Cash fifty bucks, me or my sister!
Give ten dollar more,
Both together! No sore!
No need rubber! Just very small blister!”
In clover
She’d grown tired of housework and stoves;
So dressed up, her breath scented with cloves,
Placed a “Personal” ad,
And she no sooner had,
Than had gentlemen coming in droves!
A clowther of cats
Getting sex, cash, by far’s, most effective;
A rich guy can be more selective.
Big tits? A nice bum?
Fuck them all, or just some?
Pussy glut! What’s the proper collective?
Return favour
It did strike her as just a bit strange,
Just how easy it was to arrange.
A good job, with a car;
Her boss said she’d go far,
But, then, what might he want in exchange?
Southern comfort
“Y’all, whenever you’re down this-a-way,
With some money to just piss away,
Look me up, now!” she drawled,
From the couch where she sprawled,
Undergarments still in disarray.