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shes in good hands dont worry, shes with me 
Wanna Fuck???
- Thread starter tripleV
- Start date
If I may be so crude as to say: There's nothing quite like a woman who loves to want for dick:
Ladies, I do here present you
With a token of Love hath sent you;
'Tis a thing to sport and play with;
Such another pretty thing
For to pass the time away with;
Prettier sport was never seen;
Name I will not, nor define it,
Sure I am you may divine it:
By those modest looks I guess it,
That I need no more express it,
And those eyes so full of fire,
But leave your fancies to admire.
Yet as much of it be spoken
In the praise of this love-token:
"Tis a wash that far surpasseth
For cleansing of your blood,
All the Saints may bless you faces,
Yet not do you so much good.
Were you ne'er so melancholy,
It will make you blithe and jolly:
Go no more, no more admiring,
When you feel your spleen's amiss,
For all the drinks of Steel and Iron
Never did such cures as this.
It was born in th' Isle of Man
Venus nurs'd it with her hand,
She puffed it up with milk and pap,
And lull'd it in her wanton lap,
So ever since this Monster can
In no place else with pleasure stand.
Nature, that made him, was so wise
As to give him neither tongue nor eyes,
Supposing he was born to be
The instrument of Jealousy
Give him but leave to act his part,
And he'll revive your saddest heart.
Though he wants legs, yet he can stand,
With the least touch of your soft hand;
And though, like Cupid, he be blind,
There's never a hole but he can find;
If by all this you do not know it,
Pray, ladies, ask your man, he'll surely show it.
Ladies, I do here present you
With a token of Love hath sent you;
'Tis a thing to sport and play with;
Such another pretty thing
For to pass the time away with;
Prettier sport was never seen;
Name I will not, nor define it,
Sure I am you may divine it:
By those modest looks I guess it,
That I need no more express it,
And those eyes so full of fire,
But leave your fancies to admire.
Yet as much of it be spoken
In the praise of this love-token:
"Tis a wash that far surpasseth
For cleansing of your blood,
All the Saints may bless you faces,
Yet not do you so much good.
Were you ne'er so melancholy,
It will make you blithe and jolly:
Go no more, no more admiring,
When you feel your spleen's amiss,
For all the drinks of Steel and Iron
Never did such cures as this.
It was born in th' Isle of Man
Venus nurs'd it with her hand,
She puffed it up with milk and pap,
And lull'd it in her wanton lap,
So ever since this Monster can
In no place else with pleasure stand.
Nature, that made him, was so wise
As to give him neither tongue nor eyes,
Supposing he was born to be
The instrument of Jealousy
Give him but leave to act his part,
And he'll revive your saddest heart.
Though he wants legs, yet he can stand,
With the least touch of your soft hand;
And though, like Cupid, he be blind,
There's never a hole but he can find;
If by all this you do not know it,
Pray, ladies, ask your man, he'll surely show it.
G
Golfer18--old
Guest
This is the worst display of Manhood i have ever seen, c'mon guys she is playing games, play them back
pajaro loco
New member
Gee!!! This girl is HOT. I wish I could met her
Super Sport
New member
crab---your poems are annoying. 
lol...jk bro!
lol...jk bro!
angel_eyes
New member
Triple V, are we the only ones that stay up late entertaining company??
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