Tag: fun

A stammering tart  from Calcutta

Rubbed her bottom with handfuls of butter

Smeared oils on her tum

Grease upon her front bum

“Ch-Ch-Cheaper than lube”, she would stutter

Loose bowelled Hermaphrodite from Nantucket

Had a penis so yeah, she would suck it

He would caress her clit

Explode cum, squirt, n shit

Near the bed kept a mop and a bucket

Okay so I realise that that first line hardly flows and is somewhat jarring but how often will I ever get to use the phrase “Loose bowelled hermaphrodite”.  And I wanted to combine with the limerick classic location of Nantucket which I seldom use.  Just let me have my moment okay 😊

Hot curry fan who too loved basmati

Rice, samosas and tasty chapati

He’d add chili’s galore

Declared “Please, please add some more”

Left his anus on fire and quite tatty

Nasty mortician hailed from Brasilia

Spent his nights sweating hard, necrophilia

When suggested instead

Go for live not the dead

He protested “Ive not heard a thing sillier.”

Friend of mine met this lass, not realising

That her bum was quite uncompromising

During candle lit sex

Massive fart, and then next

thing her sphincter’s on fire, unsurprising

Handsome chap who could not afford rent

Hired his bottom out ’till it was spent

He was battered and bruised

prolapsed sphincter quite used

Lost his home still, now lives in a tent.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Amazonian lass with a fetish

Would see dwarfs and become rather wettish

Pygmies gave such delight

Kept her moist through the night

Watching ‘Wizard of Oz’ left her peckish.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A sensual baker, filth thinker

She would quite often play with her sphincter.

But could not sell her cakes

‘cos suspicious brown flakes

and the smell, frankly none’s more distincter.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Once a fellow woke up scared n screamin’

as he thought that he’d ran out of semen

with a groan and a thrust

just a moan and some dust

double checked, such relief, only dreamin’

“Check your prostate” my friend’s wife insisted

so he went pants, dropped face red and twisted

he enjoyed it so much

and went home and begged such

that each night he’s oiled up, roughly fisted

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A buxom young barwench or olde

had a knack of securing men’s gold.

Of her assets quite proud

she’d stand out in a crowd

end even more so when it’s cold.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I am finally getting around to putting my limericks into a book. Or some at least.  There are about 600 on here so I have plenty to choose from.  I think I will call the book “Inappropriate”.

It’s funny going through them because mostly I do not remember them at all…Here are a few I did that I think tell you where I am heading with this.

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African crisis I never
have seen such despair, no not ever.
Drought, pain, loss, civil war,
HIV, death and more.
But hey, least they’ve got lovely weather.

 

I fellow I know, a romancer.

Lovely wife, healthy kids and great dancer.

Had it all so he thought

but it all came to nought

when he died really young of bowel cancer.

 

 

A fellow joined up and no doubt

A true patriot so he shipped out.

Lost his legs to a mine,

had some made now he’s fine,

and he always gets parked when he’s out

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Once a hairy young lady called Betty

When aroused became musty and sweaty

she’d be down on all fours

as it oozed from her pores

wet and matted, hair hung like spaghetti

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Once a crossdressing builder from Dorset

loved to squeeze himself into a corset

he would tape up his bits

wear a fake pair of tits

but still build you a wall, fix a fawcet

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A hirsuite young woman called mary

dark thick armits of hair, rather scary

curly thick and full bush

and my goodness her toosh

hair as thick and as long as a prairie