The young baker’s girl kneaded her bun,
Pressed the dough on her pussy when done.
Would he know? Could he tell,
From the taste or the smell,
What a powerful spell she’d just spun?
Tag: pussy
Testing the boundaries
“Get your own tits out, can’t you?” he grumbles.
Inexpertly, cursing, he fumbles.
She shrugs off her bra.
“Help yourself! There they are,
But no touching my pussy!” she mumbles.
Onomatopoeia
Then he whipped out his penis, flip-flop!
He was hung like a donkey! Clip-clop!
Could she get any wetter?
The sooner the better!
Wham-bam! Up her pussy! Slip-slop!
A time of reflection
In the church, as she kneels and prays
And reflects on her sins, her mind strays,
To the things she did then,
Longs to do once again,
Which her dripping wet pussy betrays!
Unconditional
Pheromones: scents of which just a whiff
Makes a pussy wet, penises stiff,
And a fuck’s in the air,
Just a question of where.
Here? Now? Yours or mine? But not if!
Her mother would be proud
“Yeah”, she said, “I’m a little bit skanky,
My pussy’s sometimes a bit manky,
A slut, yep, I know,
But wherever I go,
I at least have clean knickers and hankie!”
Boy’s night out
Naked strippers! Live sex! cried the tout.
Grubby, bored little floozies, no doubt.
Skanky tarts at the bar …
Bags the young one! Ha! Ha!
Flash some pussy, love! Mate, it’s your shout.
Pincer movement
His assault, cunning sod, was two-pronged;
Arse and pussy (where such things belonged).
She’d have thought never mind,
But the bit from behind
Was a pain, and a trifle prolonged.
Pre-feminism
With a pussy as snug as a thimble,
Athletic, inventive and nimble,
She loved a good root,
But her great disrepute
Made her less than a feminist symbol!
Wild West 8
She grew up in a house on the prairie,
All innocent, pretty, unwary…
But then caught the eye
Of strange men passing by,
When tits grew, and her pussy got hairy.