Gloria’s collection of men
Began with a builder called Ben,
A twenty year old with manner quite bold;
But his nasty habits with ferrets and rabbits
Left Gloria’s libido quite cold.
After Ben came a hairy Greek waiter
Determined to woo her and mate her.
Full of Ouzo and crazed with lust
He cornered Gloria one day at dusk,
And creeping quietly up behind her
Goosed her with his pepper grinder.
Gloria went through men at a furious rate
There was a chef, a clerk and a Bosun’s Mate,
A Polish librarian, an octogenarian
And bankers galore, who were often Aryan.
What left these men bemused and in fits
Was the glorious sight of Gloria’s tits.
Her bra was a pair of baseball mitts
And men with cameras liked to take pix
Of Gloria wearing just a pair of pink knicks.
Now expert on male organs large and small
Girls listened aghast as Gloria told all.
This subject, she said, is very complex
And of intense interest to all of our sex.
Who can tell just what a girl may discover
In a pair of pink boxers or under a cover.
There’s no clue at all from an owner’s size
To the proportions of what he keeps in his flies.
It might be so small as to fit on a Hobbit
Or nothing at all if the man’s name is Bobbit.
Some take a Republican swing to the right,
Others, exposed, just shrink out of sight.
Some, quite boldly, stand to attention,
Others are just too small to mention.
Bald ones are cute, but I’m not a great fan,
A girl likes to un-wrap a gift from a man.
Some males require extreme titillation
In order to remain upright and stay on station;
One miserable member remained in repose
Until I emerged in a pair of black hose.
But best of them all is one made of plastic,
On maximum volts the sensation’s fantastic.
This member will never shrink, flop or bend
And there’s no panting male attached to the end.