The Vagina

Poem Info
308 words
4.33
9.2k
1
0
Poem does not have any tags
Share this Poem

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here
jay.palin
jay.palin
471 Followers

THE VAGINA
By Jay.Palin Ó 2004

The vagina, we admit, is superb.
Its appeal sparks many a verb.
To plumb or to prick, or simply to lick,
Excites those from farm to suburb.

Not simple, the vagina, in design.
Were I woman, I’d surely want mine.
Yet I’ve read lore that said,
“You’re a mere whore in bed,”
If it’s rented to men who are swine.

Aside from porcine admiring,
The organ itself is untiring.
Shallow to deep, ever ready in sleep,
Its alacrity’s truly inspiring.

The vagina’s exceedingly supple.
Proper summons oft’ spurs quite a tussle.
It is moist, it is rubbery, in some cases blubbery,
And it’s prideful when flexing its muscle.

Men’s organs suffer often from drink.
Not vaginas, but, my! some do stink!
Skin color, outside, is not what is inside,
My stars! at some depth they’re all pink!

To map the vagina is tough.
Its peaks and valleys can be rough.
Made smooth, though, with goo,
When a cock pushes through,
One questions the need for its muff.

To be sure the fur cap’s not alarming.
Some think that it’s really quite charming.
Biologists glare at the innocent hair,
And purists do rave, all women must shave!
Beware, I despair: global warming!

Myself, I like them quite hairy.
But nowadays this is contrary,
To popular taste and ‘merican haste.
So, bald they become in a hurry.

Fear not, lasses, don’t be bereft,
There are billions who worship your cleft.
Thrusts to right or to left cause delight, to be sure,
Bipartisan forays last the night, and allure.

When he tells you, then, “Give me your arse-a,”
To the dictate say, “’Tis just not fair, suh!”
If the guy’s piqued and, premature, springs a leak,
Or if he is meek and allows you to speak,
Bray, “Not inthere, geek! In my vagina!”

jay.palin
jay.palin
471 Followers
Please rate this poem
The author would appreciate your feedback.
Share this Poem