Intemperance is not necessarily a bad thing, if it means having more of a good thing. One you miss out on is one you’ll never have!


She liked a root, horny Miss Bingley:
It made her feel fuzzy and tingly.
She wasn’t too fussy,
This brazen young hussy,
If blokes had her tandem or singly!


That adulterous slut, Madame Bovary
Could take it right up to the ovary.
To her lover she chuckled,
“My husband, the cuckold,
Thinks he’s big, but he isn’t, not so very!”


After one glass of whisky or brandy,
Amanda gets terribly randy,
Bestowing affection,
Without circumspection,
On whom-or-whatever is handy!


In her state of psychotic confusion
Miss Jones has a charming delusion,
That nothing but screwing
Is really worth doing,
Not wholly a silly conclusion!


Drunk and Disorderly

She was drunk and her clothes were disordered.
The boys liked the view this afforded.
She did a lap-dance
Till one came in his pants,
Then she stripped while the others applauded.

She did things they thought only a whore did:
One fucked her, then several more did,
Then more that they rang:
It became a gang-bang,
But to say more would only be sordid.



She agreed he’d be aft, I’d be fore:
It was something she’d not tried before,
But along came two more,
And she said “I’ll be sore,
But I’m game, if you want to be four!”


He was rough, he was tough, he was grubby.
She knew she should go home to hubby.
She thought he was funny;
They fucked in the dunny.
Next morning she blamed that last stubby.


An old fellow, with wheeze and huff-puff,
In a voice rather British and gruff,
Said “I can’t get it up
Like when I was a pup,
But the worst is, I can’t get enough!


Of allure she’d not an iota,
Her manner removed, or remoter,
One might have thought men
Were quite out of her ken,
Yet in fact she got more than her quota.


There’s a certain young lady called Jackson,
So horny, her nickname is klaxon:
She’ll hop into bed
With men black, brown or red,
And, on Sundays, the odd Anglo-Saxon!


“Pick an orifice, any,” said Jill.
“I’m all yours, till you’ve quite had your fill!
But one thing I insist upon,
That’s being pissed upon,
After you’ve done what you will.”


A young factory worker called Jill,
With a sigh, said she’d been through the mill.
She had rooted from foreman,
Right down to the storeman:
The night-shift is rooting her still!


Of what little mystique she had left
Miss Fitztwiddle must now be bereft:
I’ve been told (and it shows),
By a fellow who knows
She’s got calluses round her poor cleft.


Of old girlfriends, the top of my list
Is the one who liked sex with a twist.
She’d give most things a go,
(In fact, never said no),
All the more so, if just a bit pissed.


There’s a horny young girl called Lynette,
With a fanny that’s constantly wet.
When men ask for a fuck,
It’s a matter of luck
As to who, or how many she’ll let.


Though I mean Miss Maguire no malice,
On top of her cunt, there’s a callus.
One might, then assume
That she’s someone of whom
Girls with tamer sex lives should be jealous!


Said insatiable Katie McGettigan,
“Fuck me again, and then yet again!
“Katie,” I cried,
“You’ll be worn out inside!”
She just giggled and said “But I’m wet again!”


I was so drunk, one night, that I missed.
“That’s the wrong hole!” she breathlessly hissed.
I pulled out with a pop,
But she said “God, don’t stop!”
I said “OK, then, since you insist!”



Said a worn-out young girl from Nambucca
“I’m exhausted! I’m too pooped to pucker!”
It just served her right,
Since the previous night
She’d invited all comers to fuck her.


A young lady from sleepy Narooma,
At eighteen was quite a late bloomer,
But ever since then
She’s had so many men
That she’s caught up, according to rumour!

Said obliging young Polly O’Hearn,
Who had boyfriends and lovers to burn,
“I have time for you all:
Stand in line till I call,
And don’t push, you can all have a turn!”


There’s a girl of the oldest profession,
Who gives quite a decent concession
To any-sized group,
From a small boy-scout troop,
To a rowdy St Patrick’s procession!


Poor Miss Bottomly cannot refuse,
And what’s worse, given choice, cannot choose:
So that, lest she offend,
She spends hours on end,
Giving head to the heads of the queues!


A promiscuous girl from Saint Ives
Has disrupted a great many lives,
By seducing young lads,
And a great many dads,
Not to mention their mothers and wives!


An intemperate lady called Sally
Has lovers too many to tally:
She’s so very nice
One need never ask twice,
To be face-to-face, belly-to-belly!


A pom-pom girl cheers and screams,
In a costume that strains at the seams:
They all look just the same,
And all, after the game,
In the locker-room, fuck for both teams!”


With a fanny so moist that it squishes
When scrubbing or doing the dishes,
She goes about nude,
To be readily screwed
By her boyfriend,whenever he wishes!


Said Giselle, as she loosened her stays
“I’ve had thousands and thousands of lays:
I remember the last,
But the rest of my past
Is one horny, delirious haze!”


She’s a trollop, a cot-case, is Susie:
She likes to get naked and boozy.
She has sex in bars
And in doorways and cars,
Then, next day, wakes up woozy and oozy.


She said “God, though its big, I can take it!
You think it won’t fit, but I’ll make it,
With mucus and spit,
Though my fanny may split!
Stick it in, till I burst, or you break it!”


There’s a horny young lady called Teddi,
Whose morals are somewhat unsteady:
She always resists,
But if someone insists,
She’ll say yes, and have wet pants already!


Naked Woman Covering with Teddy Bear


She cried “Oh! It’s the absolute ticket!
Wherever you want, you can stick it!
And if it gets shitty,
Just wipe on my titty,
Or if you prefer, I could lick it!”


City girls

City girls have tattoos on their tits
And gold rings in their nipples and clits;
They give blow-jobs in bars,
Don’t wear knickers or bras,
And their jeans slide up into their slits.

City life is all sex, booze and glitz:
Every party’s a sexual blitz.
City girls love to drink,
Then they flirt and they wink,
Lift their skirts and expose their pink bits.

City girls wear short dresses with slits;
You can see a girl’s snatch when she sits.
They all shave round their cunts,
They’ll try anything once,
And they’ll fuck a chair-leg, if it fits.

City girls don’t know when to say quits;
Rules and etiquette give them the shits.
Ask a girl for a screw
And she’ll say “Yeah, you’ll do,
Though I know I’m a slut,”  she admits.


A disgusting young fellow from Tully
Made love to a girl in a gully:
Though damn poor excuse,
She was known to be loose,
And had no reputation to sully!


Having got herself drunk, but not very,
On one little glassful of sherry,
She cheekily giggled,
And sexily wriggled,
And offered the waiter her cherry!


Said Miss Moxham, appealingly yawning,
“I wake up so horny each morning:
You’d better watch out
And not wave it about,
Or you’ll find yourself fucked without warning!”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: