Thursday, November 24, 2016

Miss Daisy Reads Something Racy

Racy Miss Daisy, reads something racy/
Left all alone, undergarments lacy/
her husband at the tracks betting on something race-y/

One eye open, one eye covered/
Her husband suggested his one eye and a bit of butter/

He stuttered/ she muttered/
Said he was giving her his 9 iron
She turned around - saw it was really his putter/

Green fast rolling/ trimmed with its up keeping/ hole a bit tight, like fingers in a ball - bowling/
He turned her into a killer from a horror movie - she kept coming…

Sports on their mind, two of a kind, ties that bind, he tightens ties/
She tightens Kegel with thigh flys angled at 90 degrees wide with basted thighs/

Closes with two balls inside her thighs, puttin’ on the heels/ spinning his wheels/

Stuffed like a turkey/ - she’s doing preventative maintenance, well into her thirties/


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