Not a stripper, a proper artiste…
Wants a lap dance? Indeed! Filthy beast!
And to take off her thong!
Well, he’s got that damn wrong!
That’s a hundred bucks extra, at least!
Tag: stripper
Ripper
At the end of her sensuous strip,
She does cartwheels and then a back-flip,
Coming down in the splits,
Touching ground with her tits,
It’s a wonder her cunt doesn’t rip!
Bring back fly buttons
Miss La Touche, that most infamous stripper
Had stripped to the buff, bar one slipper,
When, out of the gloom,
Screamed a fellow of whom
Certain parts had got caught in his zipper!
Butterfly
She wore nought but a pink feather boa…
She strutted the stage, shimmied lower…
Her pussy lips gaped…
Purple, butterfly-shaped…
He reached out… but she grinned and said “Whoa!”
Zip file
She was built like a dream, the young stripper.
Great tits and great arse. What a ripper!
And boy, could she dance!
He’d have come in his pants,
Had his dick not got caught in his zipper.
Similes
On the stage, the entrancing young stripper
Enticingly pulled down her zipper…
Arse cheeks like full moons,
Tits like down-filled balloons,
And a cunt like a kid leather slipper!
The bucks party
His five minutes of fame! Damn notorious!
How was it? God! Fucking glorious!
Banging that stripper…
Those tits! What a ripper!
Blind drunk, of course. Fucking uproarious!
Counting her blessings
Naked mostly, both off and onstage,
Body still pretty good for her age;
Though the wrong side of thirty,
Still randy and flirty.
Booze, tips, tricks, why work for a wage?
Little Egypt
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!
God’s omniscience
She’s a dancer, she tells him, off-Broadway.
A stripper. Who cares? (The good Lord may…)
Does God really care
If crude drunken men stare,
While she takes off her clothes in a bored way?