GIRLS WHO WEAR GLASSES
Its said “that men seldom make passes
At girls who wear glasses”
But what if the girl is wrapped within
Such soft velvet like skin
Or she is full of vitality and vigor
Or has an hourglass figure
With a pinched waist and curvaceous hips
Or moist pouting lips
Perhaps she has milky white thighs
Or maybe come to bed eyes
What if her blouse struggles to repress
Her large heaving chest?
Maybe she has a dazzling smile that wins
Or has long slender pins
Would men ask out girls who wore glasses
If they had really nice arses?
WHAT DOES IT TAKE
Does it take the fuller figure?
To help you pull your trigger
Or is it those who kiss and tell
You require to ring your bell
Or does it take a total bitch
To really flick your switch
Perhaps its nurses on the ward
That actually pulls your cord
Is it lamb that’s really mutton?
You need to push your button
Must they wear the briefest thong?
To make you bang your gong
Ought they dress in something tight?
To really light your light
Must they act all prim and proper?
To help to pull your stopper
Must they wiggle when they walk?
To make you pop your cork
The truth is, unless I miss my guess
They need only answer yes
BERNADETTE FROM BLACKHEATH
I remember my very first girlfriend
Bernadette O’Flahety was her name
She was ever so slightly unattractive
But she was my girlfriend all the same
She was considered quite the looker
Where she was born in Blackheath
Despite the very large warty nose
With the ginger moustache beneath
She did have a face like a smashed crab
Or perhaps like a bag full of spanners
She had tufts of red hair under her arms
Like a pair of nesting ginger hamsters
They say that beauty is only skin deep
So she must have had hers on inside out
She’d a funny eye so that one looked
At you and the other seeked you out
She was best viewed in a dimmed light
Preferably from distance to be unkind
It was best not to see her naked form
But tackle her in the dark from behind
She had hairy legs and even hairy nipples
Her shape wasn’t curves so much as sags
She carried at least three spare tyres
And had breasts like roof tiler's nail bags
Bernadette's complexion resembled
Two week old cold lumpy porridge
She had Denis Healy bushy eyebrows
Accentuating the prominent ridge
She was older than me by a little bit
And she had been around the block
And it would be more than fair to say
She had too many miles on the clock
Bernadette was a bit of an old banger
You could say in more way than one
But on a those long cold dark nights
She was also a real bundle of fun
My brother said unkindly, the poor girl
Must have fallen from the ugly tree
And making matters worse she had hit
On the way down a branch or three
The excessive cellulite on her thighs
Made them look and feel like tripe
She had a number of boils and sores
And her skin was of the greasy type
And yes its true that she did have a face
Like a well smacked arse bless her
Or a bulldog chewing a wasp but then
I was no oil painting or Adonis either
And perhaps she was not what a mother
Would want to chose for her son
But Bernadette was quite acceptable
For a shy young man to practice on
YOU CAN RING MY BELL
Do you like making spoons in bed?
Or do you do it on all fours like beasts
Perhaps in the style of the missionaries
Or does she straddle you like a monkey on a stick?
Is she animated when you’re at it?
Thrashing about a lot
Or motionless like a resuscitation doll
Maybe you have her with trembling knees against a wall?
Mounting her roughly from behind
What about the wheelbarrow?
Have you tried that position?
Maybe bondage or spanking is your thing?
Do you play two way family favorites?
Kissing the inside of her milky white thigh
Before drinking from the velvet cup
Does she enjoy performing orally?
Is her behavior quite low, morally
Base and sluttish
Or is she prim and proper
Prudish about being rude-ish
Maybe it’s not what you do but who you do it with
Vampish or tarty, dumb or smarty
Clear complexioned or spotty
Level headed or dotty
Intelligently spectacled
Scantily clad in edibles
What about role playing and dressing up
Does she wear uniforms of cotton or serge?
And do you dress as a centurion
Or a gladiator
Do you play doctors and nurses?
Or vicars and tarts Master and slave
Butler and parlor maid
Teacher and pupil
Acting out fantasies of filth
Do you do it wearing a hat?
In German helmet and jack boots
Cross dressing perhaps
In a pencil skirt or floral dress
Leather goods or latex or pace
What about toys or sexual aids
No let’s not go there
What about swinging do you fancy that?
Arriving in a Porsche and going home in a Passat
Does she need to be of a certain physical type?
To be of the right dimensions?
Or proportions
Tall and pencil thin
Or perhaps pear shaped or round
An hour glass figure
Or a stick thin anorexic
A particular color eyes
Hair, long, short or none at all
Blonde, brunette or red
Body piercing?
A turn on? Or turn off?
Tattoo’s like wise
Do you like your beaver wild or tamed?
Does a Brazilian look too much like you need a swipe card?
And if it looks like Adolph Hitler’s moustache do you care
When her breasts are released are they like airbags deploying
Or are they small and pert just enough for toying
Are you fussy about her appearance?
Or is a pulse all she needs
Perhaps you’re not even that fussy
Is she noisy when you’re on the nest?
Perhaps that’s what you like the best
Once she’s warmed up do you make her bellow?
So you have to turn her over and make her bite the pillow?
What about location does it matter where it’s done
Do you like it to be a public place?
When she’s sitting on your face
Do you like it al fresco in the woods or maybe the park
Or does a dog sniffing your bum put you off your stroke
At someone’s party under a pile of coats
At the cinema or theatre
Out back in a dark alley way
In the car? We’ve all done it there
All around the house in the bathroom and on the stair
Well you can do it in the hall or on the kitchen table
Even on the toilet if she doesn’t care
It doesn’t matter what you do to ring each others bell
Or where you ring it bloody hell
Just as long as all party’s are willing and able
That’s the best thing of all and the most important
And the most exiting when she tells you yes
TIGHT FIT
My first girl friend
Was amply proportioned
Not fat,
Not even plump
Rounded
If she’d been a sofa
She’d have been well upholstered
So why on earth
When she had a size 16 arse
She insisted on wearing
Her sisters size 12 pants
Only God only knows
And he won’t split
Though I’m surprised the pants didn’t
Anyway I digress
The small knickers
Didn’t add to her desirability in any way
Nor detract from it in fairness
On the contrary
I think in more than one sense
It did make me want to get her pants off
Even more.
Now when it came to tights
She took the word literally
Now the tights may well have been
One size fits all
But the one size did not include her’s
On her legs they looked good
She had great legs
It was her hips that were the problem
In so much as getting her tights off
Now on most occasions this was not a problem to me
It was only when,
We wanted to
Not to put to fine a point on it
Partake of a spot of Rumpy
Getting her undressed then
Was no mean feat
Pulling her tight down
Was like pulling a porn star off your mother
Or that plastic wrapping off a frozen turkey
Her bra was no better
Being designed
To fit a 36 b
When she was actually a 38 d
Her breasts were squeezed out of shape
Like lumps of kneaded bread doe
And when you managed to unhook her bra
Which took both hands
And a knee in her back
They popped out like a pair of jack in the boxes
Or one would spring out like something
From a bizarre novelty cuckoo clock
Striking the hour
Or would lunge out
Like a deploying airbag
All her other clothes
Fitted her perfectly
It was only her underwear
That she got wrong
She was only sixteen then
Oh happy days
Sweet sixteen
Sweet as candy
For unwrapping
And it was not an unpleasant experience
Unwrapping her
I spent three exhausting years
Laboring at the task
Made all the more pleasurable
As she had two sisters
For me to unwrap
OH LOOK
Oh look
A glimpse of thigh
As her legs cross
Young girls
Hipster clad
Showing thongs
Fail to titillate
But the young woman
In the lemon dress
Illuminated in the sunlight’s shaft
Excites the senses
A well-endowed Philly
On an adjacent table
Leans forward suddenly
And her breasts
Rearrange themselves
Delightfully
I feel no shame
As I view
A curvaceous beauty
A shapely leg
Or well-sculptured ankle
Pert well formed buttocks
Plump or perky breasts
But nothing tarty or vampish
No bare midriffs
Or obscenely short skirts
Less is more
I feel no shame
For letching
Where’s the sin
In looking
They are god’s creation
Well packaged
Why would he
Give us such delicacies
If he intended us not to look
So where’s the sin
Even if I am the vicar
MISS TUNNEY
Hey there Miss Tunney
You’re quite a honey
With a disposition sunny
And sense of humour, funny
So cute just like a bunny
I’d pay a deal of money
Just to taste your cunny
YOU,RE MINE
Your size four feet are mine
Your slender stockined legs are mine
Your firm round buttocks are mine
Your unwaxed loins are mine
Your smooth flat belly is mine
Your manicured nails are mine
Your pert young breasts are mine
Your brown bobbed hair is mine
Your pretty round face is mine
Your puppy dog eyes are mine
Your turned up nose is mine
Your pale pink mouth is mine
Your coquettish laugh is mine
My heart and soul are yours
SHE
She smiles
And I undress her with my eyes
She laughs
And I’m naked with her
She looks at me
And my heart pounds
She smiles at me
And I orgasm
I really must get out more
I WANTED HER
She crouched down, almost squatting
To stroke a small dog in the park
As she did her full buttocks
Strained the fabric of her shorts
And I wanted her
When she stood up
She through back her hair from her face
As she did the sunlight caught
The fine blonde strands
And I wanted her
She reached behind her head
To tie back her loose hair
Which pushed her breasts tightly
Against her cotton shirt
And I wanted her
She saw me looking at her
And smiled at me coyly
Then she waved to me, smiling
And I wanted her
Luckily she was my wife
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