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!
Tag: tits
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!
Forty’s the new thirty
Maybe forty, though still pretty spritely,
He fancies her, wrongly or rightly,
Nice tits, a nice bum,
Maybe somebody’s mum,
But she’s squeezing his dick pretty tightly!
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.
Gotta have a gimmick
Getting older, she said, is a drag;
Wrinkles, big bum, tits starting to sag.
So it’s old dog, new tricks!
Things come into the mix
Such as handcuffs, the whip and the gag!