Around fourteen her womanhood loomed…
Hips and breasts swelled. More knowing. She bloomed.
Stupid boys in her class
Squeezed her tits, groped her arse,
To much more of which shit she was doomed.
Tag: tits
Matinee
In her bath, naked, washing her smalls;
Local boys peeked through cracks in the walls,
As her tits bobbed and swayed…
And she winked… and they played
With their stiff little pricks and their balls.
Faint praise
Though his manner was surly and gruff,
It was mostly all bluster and bluff.
“Well, you’ve got a nice figure…
Your tits could be bigger,”
He grumped… “but you’ve got a nice muff.”
Young and restless
She was gawky, ill-mannered and restive,
Her clothing immodest, suggestive,
But randy as hell,
Her tits perky as well,
And the nipple rings certainly festive!
Thrice blessed
Eyes that smoulder, her lips taste like spice.
They embrace, and she strips in a trice.
Perfect arse, perfect tits,
His cock seamlessly fits
In her pussy, which grips like a vise!
Agents provocateurs
It’s a justification, of sorts,
For occasional wishful, rude thoughts,
That girls walk round the shops,
Tits half out of their tops,
In those tight, pussy-hugging short shorts!
The direct approach
She was curvy and pretty, big-breasted.
“Nice tits! Want a root?” he suggested.
“You’re pretty well hung,”
She said. “Show me your tongue…
Yeah… Go down on me first,” she requested.
The optimist
A great body, but curious psyche;
The tattoos, the piercings. Crikey!
The dreads like Bob Marley,
Not shaving, the Harley,
Nice tits, but the rest’s a bit dykey.
Talking with her mouth full
As she sucked, her head bobbled. Good look!
Her big tits bounced and wobbled and shook.
She said something, or tried,
When he came, her eyes wide,
But it came out as gobbledegook!
A stacked deck
Lingerie Paris lace, a fur stole,
Perfect tits, and a face like a doll,
Cunt as sweet as a peach;
What’s that figure of speech?
A girl’s fortune? Her ace in the hole!