22nd February 2008, 3:01 PM
(This post was last modified: 22nd February 2008, 7:52 PM by Sacred Jellybean.)
Ahahahahaha, brilliant! I don't know if I can contend with that. Someone get the Dr. Seuss illustrator to put pictures to it!
Work be damned (I'm working from home anyway, thank heavens for snow storms), here we go:
Tim Thompson was young, virile and bright,
and to all the women he was a white knight,
Holding open doors, mopping their floors,
Giving foot massages to even the whores,
All platonic, 'cause for sure, there was nothing more
Squirrelly and spastic, Tim's whims were fantastic!
His moods were ecstatic and speeches bombastic!
He figured that happiness came in short stock
and brought it to women all over ad hoc
to one day find a new home for his cock
Poor Tim had attempted so hard to be sharp,
But on being smooth, was not very smart
He'd stumble and mumble and grin like a child
All ladies had ranked him as boring and mild
To get his dick wet it would seem quite a while
But luck beheld! In a vast open field
on a cool November night that hardly seemed real
Apples Tim picked, as he thought it so slick
To give them to Mary, a hot local chick
And with enough work he could slip in his dick
As daydreams unfolded and splashed in his head
Of Mary's lovely snatch, lips pink and clit red,
He heard a small whisper to beckon him forth
To vanquish the chore of courting town whores
To find easy access to oral and more
Capricious by nature Tim followed along
To unspoken words and enchanted song
beyond the his ear's scope, and stepped like a dope
to locate the source of melodious moans
and make the sweet body of their host become known
He entered the woods and clawed through the leaves
and branches and vines and obstructions to heed.
His feet were encased in a shroud of night mist
And as he pushed on, he dreamed his first kiss
The sweet taste of nectar on tactile pink lips
What a sight it had been, as naive little Tim
had made his way on, just dreaming of skin,
the path to his back had begun to retract
as leaves were replaced and twigs came unsnapped
concealing a trail he had not kept track
In the distance he saw a dim yellow glow
soothing any doubts, making Tim mellow.
A halo of light had shown with great might
around what finally came to his sight
A goddess there sat to solve his great blight!
Flowing silk hair of midnight's black color
on the first lunar phase had made his heart flutter!
They framed a white face, on which bright eyes shown
They glimmered and shimmered like hemalyte stones
Her soft nose had pinkened in November cold
Her coy smile had curved up on lovely red cheeks
She parted her robe, let it fall to her feet
Its white form had crumbled down past thighs
which slightly did tremble, awaiting a rise
from its viewer, who stared in lustful surprise
Her slit had been dampened, waiting so long
for Tim to arrive in response to her song
Its velvet folds met to a tight hole
tender and steamy, awaiting a pole
Her convex butt sitting behind his main goal
Her nipples protruded, inviting a mouth
Before it took a diversion down south
Her breasts were white apples, awaiting a palm
And with circumstances of which none seemed wrong
Tim soon dropped his pants and he hobbled along
His fingers were clumsy, they pinched her too hard,
His slobber felt slimy, he kissed like a 'tard
Gently she stroked him to aid his way through
his very last night as virgin and to
an actual man, even if the sex blew.
Tightly she wound her knees around his
He thrust once or twice before shooting white jizz
She cackled and pressed her hands on his neck
Collecting his sperm and completing his trek
To harvest his soul with tantalizing sex
His body jerked back, collapsed to the ground
His skin seemed to melt into a brown mound
His essence was robbed, imprisoned quite tight,
Into her chamber of damned spirits that night
She sealed his soul in a place with no light
Forever he felt the same lust on earth,
Subdued without sex, unquenchable thirst.
No further sin could poor Tim commit
Just memories of the succubus witch
Living indefinite, with no remit... and no regrets
(sorry, I modified it slightly)
Work be damned (I'm working from home anyway, thank heavens for snow storms), here we go:
Tim Thompson was young, virile and bright,
and to all the women he was a white knight,
Holding open doors, mopping their floors,
Giving foot massages to even the whores,
All platonic, 'cause for sure, there was nothing more
Squirrelly and spastic, Tim's whims were fantastic!
His moods were ecstatic and speeches bombastic!
He figured that happiness came in short stock
and brought it to women all over ad hoc
to one day find a new home for his cock
Poor Tim had attempted so hard to be sharp,
But on being smooth, was not very smart
He'd stumble and mumble and grin like a child
All ladies had ranked him as boring and mild
To get his dick wet it would seem quite a while
But luck beheld! In a vast open field
on a cool November night that hardly seemed real
Apples Tim picked, as he thought it so slick
To give them to Mary, a hot local chick
And with enough work he could slip in his dick
As daydreams unfolded and splashed in his head
Of Mary's lovely snatch, lips pink and clit red,
He heard a small whisper to beckon him forth
To vanquish the chore of courting town whores
To find easy access to oral and more
Capricious by nature Tim followed along
To unspoken words and enchanted song
beyond the his ear's scope, and stepped like a dope
to locate the source of melodious moans
and make the sweet body of their host become known
He entered the woods and clawed through the leaves
and branches and vines and obstructions to heed.
His feet were encased in a shroud of night mist
And as he pushed on, he dreamed his first kiss
The sweet taste of nectar on tactile pink lips
What a sight it had been, as naive little Tim
had made his way on, just dreaming of skin,
the path to his back had begun to retract
as leaves were replaced and twigs came unsnapped
concealing a trail he had not kept track
In the distance he saw a dim yellow glow
soothing any doubts, making Tim mellow.
A halo of light had shown with great might
around what finally came to his sight
A goddess there sat to solve his great blight!
Flowing silk hair of midnight's black color
on the first lunar phase had made his heart flutter!
They framed a white face, on which bright eyes shown
They glimmered and shimmered like hemalyte stones
Her soft nose had pinkened in November cold
Her coy smile had curved up on lovely red cheeks
She parted her robe, let it fall to her feet
Its white form had crumbled down past thighs
which slightly did tremble, awaiting a rise
from its viewer, who stared in lustful surprise
Her slit had been dampened, waiting so long
for Tim to arrive in response to her song
Its velvet folds met to a tight hole
tender and steamy, awaiting a pole
Her convex butt sitting behind his main goal
Her nipples protruded, inviting a mouth
Before it took a diversion down south
Her breasts were white apples, awaiting a palm
And with circumstances of which none seemed wrong
Tim soon dropped his pants and he hobbled along
His fingers were clumsy, they pinched her too hard,
His slobber felt slimy, he kissed like a 'tard
Gently she stroked him to aid his way through
his very last night as virgin and to
an actual man, even if the sex blew.
Tightly she wound her knees around his
He thrust once or twice before shooting white jizz
She cackled and pressed her hands on his neck
Collecting his sperm and completing his trek
To harvest his soul with tantalizing sex
His body jerked back, collapsed to the ground
His skin seemed to melt into a brown mound
His essence was robbed, imprisoned quite tight,
Into her chamber of damned spirits that night
She sealed his soul in a place with no light
Forever he felt the same lust on earth,
Subdued without sex, unquenchable thirst.
No further sin could poor Tim commit
Just memories of the succubus witch
Living indefinite, with no remit... and no regrets
(sorry, I modified it slightly)