Writing these is easy peasy

With just a squirt of lemon squeezy. 

Another bit of doggerel verse

With the occasional word perverse. 

Now what shall be our theme today?

Something jolie and light, something gay. 

Now I love a man in a uniform

Since his visit to our all girl dorm. 

Offered up as entertainment. 

Paid for, purchased, bought and sent. 

Come to solicit the gang of four, 

That's Julie and Millie (the class whore), 

Dogging Diana, and then there's me, 

Far more innocent than the other three. 

Well barely was he through the door

Than they had pinned him on the floor. 

His strip he never got to start, 

Pounced upon by needy tart,

His oiled muscles barely flexed, 

A muscular morsel for the undersexed. 

Horizontal the bump and grind;

The needy cunts were extra kind. 

Quite considerate in their care

To ensure his paid for flesh was bare. 

His screaming mouth they soon did stuff, 

But no one dies from eating muff. 

Yet as Millie picked up the pace

He really got quite red of face. 

When all you have is cunt to eat

Not for long is it a treat. 

Splashing down her juices thick, 

Another one squeezing at his dick. 

A grinding clit against his nose;

Not what he expected, I suppose. 

Tongue laps through that sopping snatch. 

Diana declares him her love match. 

Bouncing on his upright cock, 

Well concealed within her Dock. 

Julie she did suck his balls, 

Ignoring his most desperate calls. 

Like she did behind the bike shed, 

The very first time she gave head. 

Something, somehow went in his arse;

I know, I watched him twitch and gasp. 

Stuck to the floor with Millie's glue;

There wasn't much that he could do;

Buried deep between her thighs, 

Anal play an unexpected surprise. 

But Julie is such a dirty bitch, 

Quite determined to make him twitch. 

Diana's arse still slapping down, 

Her pleasure soon about to crown. 

Balls suckled hard in Julie's mouth;

You had to feel for the poor lout. 

That you'll note is a near rhyme, 

You have to use them from time to time. 

The poor lad now so nearly spent, 

The trio's demands still insistent. 

A gathering of feasting Harpies, 

Middle age, wanting wanton Barbies. 

As I watched on from atop my perch, 

Sipping at my Royal Kirsch. 

Eventually I did raise my voice, 

They'd really left me little choice. 

Slithering atop him on hands and knees

"Could someone pass the pizza, please?" 

You had to feel for the poor lad, 

It really made me a trifle sad. 

An unfortunate incident for me to see, 

Yet another mistaken identity. 

The stripper, well we'll get to him

But first let's sup another gin.