Cautionary tales


It is sometimes the object of art to instruct. Thus many a tale ends with a moral. Limericks, of course, tend to be rather immoral. More or less coincidentally, there is something to be learned from the following verses. You may laugh, and I hope you do, but ignore their lessons at  your peril!



One should never attempt to go angling
With certain appendages dangling:
There’s always the chance,
If one’s not wearing pants,
Of one’s balls getting tangled and strangling!


There was a young lady called Bayer,
Renowned as a bit of a player:
This great disrepute
She had earned root by root,
And increased it then, layer by layer.


Crazy Annie should never touch booze:
Just one drink, and her cunt starts to ooze:
Given half a glass more,
She’ll be down on the floor,
Being fucked by the fellows, in twos!


I don’t mind if a girl likes her booze:
She’s less likely, when asked, to refuse.
She might give you fellatio,
There, on the patio.
Nice. But watch out if she spews!



One late Saturday night, young Miss Brazier
Was made love to, outside, by a grazier.
He kept on his hat,
She’s quite certain of that,
But the rest is a great deal hazier!


At the act of love, be not too brisk,
It is fraught with lamentable risk.
Indiscriminate fucking,
With kicking and bucking,
Might cause one to rupture a disc.


If one’s prone to nonsensical chatter,
One’s clothes strewn with edible matter;
If one goes about
With one’s genitals out,
One is probably mad as a hatter!


When Miss Martin leapt onto my desk,
And performed a risque arabesque,
In her knickers and stockings,
She thought she was shocking,
But I found it rather grotesque.


Far be it from me to disparage
The fine institution of marriage,
But let it be said,
Many girls who are wed,
On the whole, would prefer a miscarriage!


**EXCLUSIVE** Bad girl Jessica Lowndes has a shotgun wedding on the set of "90210"


At a party a reckless girl drank,
Until what happened next was a blank:
From what later ensued,
She discerned she’d been screwed,
But could not recall whom she should thank!


It was just as the bride had been dreading,
All through the reception and wedding:
Her blood on the sheet
Of the honeymoon suite,
And his semen all over the bedding!


She was caught in the rain with a fella,
Who offered to share his umbrella:
She thought “What’s to lose?”
It seemed rude to refuse.
She said “Thanks”, and was fucked in a cellar.


Never one who would panic or fluster,
With all of the strength she could muster,
She soothingly spoke
To this bothersome bloke,
And then kicked him a beaut in the cluster!


There was a young waitress, who fluttered her
Long, silky lashes and jutted her
Tits out and smiled
At the cook, who went wild,
Dropped his pants and assaulted and buttered her!


A young fellow, though almost full-grown,
Had been coping so long on his own,
That when offered a cunt,
He approached back to front,
But he found the right hole when once shown!





There’s a muscular lady called Glenda,
Of quite indeterminate gender,
Who, when but a lad,
Had what organs she’d had
Indescribably mauled in a blender.


In her sequined diaphanous gown,
Lady Pugh was the toast of the town,
But the butt of the jokes
Of those same fickle folks,
When she sneezed, and her panties fell down!


All the wine made poor Emily groggy:
She giggled, her knickers grew soggy.
She went for some air,
And though rather unfair,
She was fucked by some bloke, a-la-doggy.


When a woman’s too fond of her horse,
She risks scandal and pain and divorce.
It’s a stage girls go through,
But some things one can’t do,
Or, once done, one should show some remorse!


In the Saturday night hurly-burly,
One might meet a willing young girlie,
And whisk her away
For a grope or a lay,
But the best ones are mostly gone early!


I think marriage a fine institution,
And often the only solution.
For girls, what remains
If they lack looks or brains,
Is the convent, or else prostitution!


When a lady is cursed with knock-knees,
It makes fucking a bit of a squeeze:
If one gets in at all,
It could cost you a ball,
And God help you, should one of you sneeze!


A young girl, rather drunk, and stripped bare,
Rode a camel bare-back for a dare:
She collected her bet,
But she can’t sit down yet,
She’s so sore round her never-mind-where!


An unfortunate woman called Laura
Made love to a fellow who tore her.
Said he, “It’s much better,
The second time’s wetter.”
Quite true, but it just made her sorer!


“You will not dare, I hope,” said Lorette,
“To do things that you’d later regret:
Though I wish you no harm,
I shall break your right arm,
If you try to do more than just pet!




Though the sign at the entrance did warn her;
Beware! Don’t have sex in the sauna!
She did for a dare,
Being devil-may-care,
With the chap who’s her principal mourner!


There was a young lady called Lynne,
Who had an identical twin:
Although both liked to screw,
A chap never knew who
He was fucking until he got in!


A young lady I know is quite manic,
Her manner of fucking galvanic:
She starts at a pace,
Like it’s some sort of race,
And from then on, just hang on and panic




An unfortunate girl called Maria
Developed the dread gonorrhoea:
Her husband took fright
When she told him her plight,
And discreetly advanced to the rear




Should you contemplate something obscene,
With a raunchy young lady called Jean,
Then at least wash your hands
After fondling her glands;
Well, who knows where the trollop has been?




A young fellow from smoggy Port Kembla
Was having a late-night knee-trembler,
But somehow or other,
He fucked the girl’s mother,
Whose daughter did, granted, resemble her.




A daring young girl, for a prank,
Bought a swimsuit, obscene, to be frank.
It was hard to ignore it
The first time she wore it,
Impossible after it shrank!


If, persisting, you only produce,
Cries of “Sir, you’re a pain, and obtuse!”
Then you’d better accept
That you’re less than adept,
And make do with the old self-abuse.


Other people’s small parts may drip pus,
With all sorts of concomitant fuss:
It’s a nuisance, of course,
Which provokes great remorse
In those poor folk concerned, (never us!)


If she’d only had time to reflect,
But she didn’t so much as suspect
His unworthy intentions,
Before his dimensions
Persuaded her not to object




Said Miss Wrigley,
“I might have refused,
Had I known I’d be sorely abused:
You have plied with such strength
Your inordinate length
That my fanny is swollen and bruised!


If you go out, my daughter, to ride,
Then sit side-saddle, never astride,
Or else, when you are mounted,
You might be discounted,
As being too loose and too wide!


What I thought the young lady had said
Was she wanted to take me to bed,
But the way that she screamed
When I fucked her , it seemed
That I must have been somehow misled!


Kristy Brodie was well-nigh a saint,
A good catholic girl, free from taint,
Till the good  life she tasted,
Declared her life wasted:
What trace of her virtue’s left’s faint!


One day normally proper Miss Sally
With someone less proper did dally:
One glass of champagne,
Reserve went down the drain,
As her innocent legs turned to jelly!


It adds zest, one must say, to one’s screws,
To sustain the odd bite, scratch or bruise.
If she licks, sucks and bites,
These are extra delights,
But it isn’t much fun if she chews.


He was crude, he blasphemed; she was shocked,
Yet, somehow, in a trice, was un-frocked,
And un-bra-ed and un-knickered,
Sweet-talked, and hard liquored,
Deflowered, and gone off half-cocked!


She stretched out with her clothes by her side,
On a beach where she couldn’t be spied,
But she woke up to find
She was sunburned behind,
And her clothes washed away by the tide!




Should you slip into some lady’s slot,
You might find it delightfully hot,
But take care when you’re there:
It’s a humid affair,
And things left there too long tend to rot!


It’s not done for a lady to squat
And display everything that she’s got:
If her cunt caught the eye
Of a chap passing by,
She’d be fucked, with just cause, on the spot!



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!


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!


Naked Ballet Practice #3 - Splits


A disgusted young lady called Sue
Said “Well, this is a fine howdy-do!
Seven months up the spout,
To some crude, drunken lout,
And I honestly can’t recall who!”


‘Twas a straightforward fuck, and quite tame,
His intention was never to maim,
But his prick was so long,
And his thrust was so strong,
Her poor fanny was never the same!


A young squire was trapped by his tongue,
In a chastity belt that was sprung:
He was saved from this plight,
By her husband, the knight,
To be after drawn, quartered and hung!


An unmarried man’s not to be trusted,
Although he be smooth as egg custard,
For many’s the story,
Pathetic and gory,
Of girls’ hearts and maidenheads busted!


When young ladies drink vodka or whisky,
It makes them feel naughty and frisky:
They shed inhibitions,
Defy prohibitions,
And do things in bad taste and risky.


The vagina is solidly wrought,
For the process of fucking is fraught
With such risk to the joints
And the innermost points
That it has to be carefully taught.



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