Tuesday 19 October 2010

A LITTLE BIT OF LUST

DIRTY DANCING

Joanne the willowy vixen
Willing and welcoming
Dancing on the pole
Writhing and gyrating
Erotically cavorting
Like a gracile courtesan
Suppliantly performing for the clientele
Of dirty old men and drunken letches
Debasing herself for meagre reward
In seedy surroundings
Selling herself to wealthy businessmen
With her nakedness she begs
For more paper currency
She calls herself an exotic dancer
But she’s no better than the geisha
Who satisfies a Mikado’s libido

SPANISH MAIDEN

The Spanish maiden with the come hither look
Resplendent with curves shaped to arouse
A maiden possessing that perfect combination
Of come to bed eyes and a gaping blouse

THE PARAMOUR

I have always been magnanimous by nature
Generous of heart and noble of spirit
Kind, forgiving blah blah blah
In short I have always been a door mat

I don’t get to be the significant other
I am destined to forever be the paramour
The elicit lover, skulking in the dark
Never to come out into the light

Never to be amative, never to show my feelings
Always effacing myself in public
Confined to simple flirtatious episodes in view
And elicit sexual dalliances behind closed doors

Hotel doors mainly, locked against the world
Sometimes another mans bedroom door
With another mans wife or fiancé
I am not proud of what I do, but I do it anyway

THE HUNTER

Pubs and clubs he scours
In the wee small hours
To use his seductive powers
On the maidens he devours
Then in the early hours
The maidens he deflowers
Are left like wilting flowers
He then returns to gothic towers
Where he then showers

BLACK MASS

She slipped off her long leather coat.
Revealing just her underwear
Standing before me dressed all in black
A leather Basque, lace panties
A garter belt and stockings
And six-inch stiletto heels
I was instantly aroused
And wanted her there and then
But instead she knelt before me
At the alter of my lust
And took the sacrament

SPEAK DIRTY TO ME

She wears sexy underwear
And speaks dirty to me
I handle her roughly
Like a rag doll
I bend her to my will
I grope at her breasts
Toy with her nipples
My fingers first probe
Then penetrate her hot wetness
And revel in her response
Then she begs me to enter
And as I do I feel her shudder
Such burning passion
Consumes us both
As we are lost in the baseness of the act
Filthy words spill from her lips
As we exorcized our lust
Then sweet ecstasy
In the moment
Of our passions culmination

A LITTLE BIT OF IRISH

She is my southern Irish bundle of fun
If you want a good time girl she’s the one
She drinks like a fish and dances till dawn
She’ll run around naked on your front lawn
She likes to gamble but doesn’t do drugs
And likes to drink Guinness from mugs
She is the one who paints the town red
There’s never a dull moment it has to be said
Then later you can have a quiet Canoodle
Until you unleash her inner sex poodle
Then she’s a sex crazed Barbie doll
Who doesn’t know when to stop at all
For outside she’s sweet as apple strudel
While inside she’s a spanky sex poodle

COLLAR AND CUFFS

Hey there blondie I really like your hair
But I bet that it’s a different shade down there
I bet you don’t have any white blonde thatch
Your collar and cuffs certainly won’t match
Or maybe a mismatch really isn’t anticipated
Possibly you have already defoliated
I don’t mind you with or without down below
I’m am an easy to please kind of fellow
And if you’re a bottle blonde I don’t care
Or if there is a mismatch with body hair
Any way it comes that’s my simple philosophy
And besides it’s not something I’m likely to see

THE TOM TOM BLUES

I want to get a Tom Tom
Or any make of Satnav
But my lady wife won’t hear of it
Not all the time I have
Her to map read for me
And give me vague directions
Saying left instead of right
At all the intersections
But it’s always my fault
When we take another detour
Though it’s her not paying attention
I don’t want to do this anymore
For she doesn’t really map read
She only reads her women’s mag
But that’s what I’m stuck with
A fifty year old sat nag

EURO TRASH

After another dismal round of European qualifiers
I think its time for a change
There are too may countries now
So I propose something radical
Norway and Sweden should merge
To become Swedway or Norden
Spain and Portugal could become
Sportugal, Porpain or Spugal
Denmark and Finland would be Finmark
Belgium and Holland would become Belland
Germany and Austria would either be
Gerstria or the fourth reich
The Balkan states could reform as Yugoslavia
Greece and Turkey could be Treece or Gurkey
The USSR could regroup, for sporting reasons only of course
And the home nations could combine to become England

STEPHANIE

It was love at first sight
When I first saw Stephanie
That sparkling sprite
Stunning little Steffie
It may have been her beautiful face
Wish a rosy blush on her cheek
She was the most beautiful creature
I ever held in my arms
It may have been the fine brown hair
Dancing on her shoulders
Hair so fine it turned to fire
In the sunlight
Making a halo on an angel's head
Possibly it was her vivaciousness
Or just her small buttocks
Encased in her dirty jodhpurs
She was simply heart stoppingly gorgeous
Being in love with her was joyous,
Being loved by her was glorious
She would hug me
And bury her head in my chest
The smell of her hair was heaven
Her perfume a divine intoxication
And I would feel her tremble in my arms
As a tiny bird might in the palm of your hand
I wanted to keep her safe
Protect her from harm
Then I would kiss the top of her head
And carry her off to bed
I loved her so much
But I should have loved her more
I should have loved her with a passion
With such depth and intensity
That God himself
Could not have rent her from my grasp
But I did not
And my little bird escaped

I JUST MET A GIRL CALLED MARIA

I was fourteen when I met her
It was the school holidays
And time could hang heavily
As you tried to fill the days

But that was before Maria
We met at the local lido
During that long hot summer
When she affected me so

She was a big busted girl
A full year older than me
And the stirrings in my trunks
Were due to her close proximity

Everywhere that was important
Maria was big soft and round
An open smile and wondrous lips
And a voice of honey sweet sound

I lost my heart on that summer day
Her charms I could not resist
That summer of sexual awakening
Her lips were the first I kissed

What a great summer it was
With Maria by my side
Our first summer of love
My heart full of love and pride

The summer passed much faster
After I first saw her lovely face
We parted in September
Never again to share an embrace

LETTERS IN THE LIBRARY

As I sit in the musty library
In a once great house
I read, not one of the leather bound tomes
That fill the shelves from floor to ceiling
But a collection of letters
Neatly tied in ribbons
And they take my breath away
For each page is part of a remarkable story
About a most extraordinary couple
And their exceptional love story
For this lovingly devoted couple
Never met
Yet their love was evident
In their personnel correspondence,
No in their Love letters
Let’s say it how it is
The flowery words of an affaire d’amour
Echoed in the calligraphy on every page
Each billet doux
More affectionate and romantic than the previous
They bill and coo on every page
Each lovingly constructed sentence
Heavily laced with innuendo
Subtle yet explicit at the same time
Flavoured with delicious nuances
Flirtatious and lustful
Romantic and affectionate
A love of such purity
Not for its pureness of thought
But for the absence of any hope of physicality
She was an invalid, bed ridden
He a subject of an enemy state
So she couldn’t go to him
He couldn’t come to her
They could never meet, would never meet
So they made love via correspondence
An affair lasting more than forty years
Only ending with his death
His dying wish that her letters be returned to her
So that they at least should lie together

HAVE YOU SEEN HER?

The coffee shop was quiet
Much quieter than last week
When I last saw her,
Which was also the first time
But in those seven days
She has filled my every thought
I have haunted the coffee shop everyday
But I haven’t seen her again
And today once more
There is no sign of her
I should ask the waitress
But what would I say
“Have you seen that girl?
She was here a week ago
The girl who was sat there
In that easy chair
The girl with the chestnut hair
In a pixie cut, have you seen her”?
How ridiculous would that sound?
She would think me mad
Or worse a stalker
Maybe if I told her about her smile
A smile to brighten the darkest day
Or those green eyes
Hypnotic and mesmerising,
Or that soft velvet laugh
But no I would just sound creepy
So I order a coffee instead
And sit in her corner
Drinking my coffee
While pondering my insanity
“Do you mind if I join you”?
A voice halted my musings
It was her, my quarry
She was here and she was speaking to me
“Absolutely, please do”
I replied rather pompously
“I love this corner” she said
“I like to sit and watch the world go by”
We exchanged a smile
But now she was actually here
I was speechless and my head was spinning
And I felt a little guilty
For stalking her like prey
Then, in a soft easy tone
She spoke again, which put me at my ease
“Didn’t I see you in here last week?”