You doggone right

She’s full of herself.
He took one look
His neck crook
Gestured a yep.
Then she told him
She needed some help
“I’m tired of tooting my own horn”.
So he blew it himself.
He flirted with her flute
And blew it to death
She came in humming herself.
Who you fooling?
She pursued it herself.
She’s the cougar
So he’s playing gazelle
And he’s doing it well
She’s his Lady Love
He’s LL.
Licking Lips
Chapstick don’t fail.
She so nasty
Janet Jack, he
So So Def.
Mad-dame, she’s a female Hef.
She’s his center-fold
She got his Kenneth Cole
Reaction to sweat.
He bluetoothed her a sms
As she read the text
She got humid in that sun-dress.
She felt foolish, felt stupid
Hot, bothered and wet
When she hadn’t even heard his breath.
Let alone his “yes”
Tones while moaning, pressed.
For all she knew he could just be a phony sex
Operator…
So she gave him a test
She gave him Tess
Her free-thinking ex-girlfriend
And she had next.
Her baby doll, dolled-up
In a baby doll dress.
Como se dice ménage tres?
The best thing
She no-speaking no ingles.
So she say, “Si” instead of yes
She say, “Si Daddy, me Daddy!”
When he aced that Tess
“Oui Daddy” when the three French kissed
Acute mess, yep.

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