Girls, beneath tits and pussy and skin, you
Are jelly and bowel and sinew;
A man, it’s well known
Has more blood and more bone,
Which is why it feels good when he’s in you.
Tag: tits
Alcohol fog
He was lost in an alcohol fog,
When she purred “Do you fancy a snog?”
She had tits out to here,
But, blinded by beer,
The poor fool just stood there agog!
The real things
If you think a girl’s tits might be fake,
There are several tests you can make;
Do they droop when set free?
Maybe suck ’em and see,
Or just grab ’em and give ’em a shake.
Cats
On each breast were drawn faces of cats,
From each nipple hung little gold rats,
Like a pussy-cat’s prey;
Yes, one would have to say
That the woman had great tits for tatts!
A peculiar thing
A girl’s bra’s quite a curious thing,
Just two triangles, joined by some string
That uncertainly sits
On her unruly tits
Which would much rather dangle and swing.
Reality check
He decided he’d just be direct,
And said “Great tits! You wouldn’t object
If I had a quick feel,
To see if they’re real?”
“They were”, she said, “last time I checked.”
Suspicion
When he squeezed, he began to suspect
She had fake tits, which, were he correct,
Might persuade him to quit,
So he tickled her clit,
To distract her a bit while he checked.
Initiation
She was big-bosomed, freckled and hairy;
The boy thought her sexy, but scary.
She showed him her tits,
And her moist, bushy bits,
Which he poked and squeezed, randy but wary.
Consuming passion
As a sexual service consumer,
Beware of false promise and rumour;
If tits are inflated,
The girl’s over-rated;
It helps to keep one’s sense of humour!
The bottom line
The third blonde from the left would be suitable,
Maybe… in fact, indisputable:
Nice face, great figure,
(Tits could have been bigger).
On balance, though, totally rootable!