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Click hereThere once was a bimbo called Lex
Who insisted on wearing her specs
Though her pussy she shaved
It was facials she craved
And she never could see after sex
There once was a bimbo from Split
Who proudly claimed never to spit
She swallowed it all
Never letting it fall
And savoured each sweet creamy bit
There once was a bimbo called Fae
Who could take any cock all the way
She kept them hard all the night
But try as she might
They limped away during the day
There once was a bimbo from York
Who could suck from a bottle the cork
The bubbly she'd drink
Taught her how not to think
And, um, how does this poem thingy work?
Thank you for the comments. It's nice when my daft sense of humour gets a laugh.
That tickled a certain sense. Very inspirational!
--
You didn't live if you haven't laughed once,
and you shouldn't die, before you did it twice
have you heard, all good flings come in trees,
or was it on all fours?
You know, the best ones come in wives.
That was just plain fun there. Loved it. Thanks for publishing. Cheers
I'd forgotten until after submitting that I used the York/cork rhyme in my futanari limericks, rhyming there with 'fork'. But here I quite like the humorous combination of poet-as-bimbo and the not-quite-rhyme York/cork/work.