There was a young lady named Jo

Who was serviced four times in a row;

When she cried: “Give me more!”

A weak voice from the floor

Protested: “I just can’t, it’s too sore.”

In the street, a big lady from Fareham,

Would take out her tits to compare’em;

She explained: As I’m blessed

With great mounds on my chest,

it’s a bit of a shame not to share’em.

A woman who lived in St. Paul,

Had breasts undeniably small;

Her husband growled: “Dear,

Why not burn your brassiere?

It’s fulfilling no function at all!”

I met a lewd nude in Bermuda,

Who thought she was shrewd, I was shrewder;

She considered it crude

To be wooed in the nude –

I pursued her, subdued her, and screwed her.

There was a young lady named Jo,

Whose lover had pulled out too slow;

So they tried it all night,

Till he got it just right –

Well, practice makes perfect you know!

A diminutive maiden name Hilda,

Had a date with a top body-builder;

He said that he should,

That he could and he would,

And he did – and it damn near killed her!