Fat blokes, skinny blokes, sometimes a mob…
Dildos, dicks, fingers, corn on the cob…
Do a lap dance or twerk,
It’s all just a day’s work…
Getting tied up… all part of the job.
Tag: prostitution
Bad trip
All this bondage stuff’s kinda the pits,
Fuckin’ tied up, her big purple tits,
Bein’ flogged with a whip…
Weird fucker’s sick trip…
Still the money ain’t bad, she admits.
Value for money
A young wench of the utmost utility,
Blessed with erotic ability,
Splendidly made…
Well worth all that he’s paid
For her beauty and cunt and agility!
Life’s not meant to be easy
The old bastard was foul mouthed and sleazy.
His foreskin was rancid and cheesy…
She thought “Fuck. Okay.
A day’s work, a day’s pay…
Yep, she’d suck him, although she felt queasy.”
Perhaps
She found blokes, using various apps,
Met up, hooked up, and danced on their laps…
For the price of a meal
She’d giggle and squeal,
And suck them and fuck them perhaps.
The price
Since his wife put out seldom and meagrely,
Never a smile, never eagerly,
Basil’s eye strayed…
Might his niece, if he paid,
Let him fuck her, albeit illegally
Business opportunity
Girl like that… wonder how much she earns…
Not as much as he thought, he soon learns…
Well, it sort of depends…
But if he and his friends,
All chip in, take her someplace, take turns…
The good life
It’s the good life, right, being retired?
Eat, drink and rent girls as required…
Nice filthy young things,
A few bucks and no strings…
Except often you’re too fucking tired!
Touting his wares
“Girls like this,” he said. “Mate! They’re like gold!
Fresh young pussy… eighteen years old!
Touch your toes! Do the splits,
Baby! Show us your tits!”
“Say no more,” said the john. “Shit, I’m sold!”
Market price
She uncrossed her legs, flashin’ the gash…
“Wanna fuck? Or you just talkin’ trash?
Yes or no, either way,
Fuck or not, I’m OK.
If you want it, it’s two hundred. Cash.”