Souvenirs du Temps Bien Perdu

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Blouse and bloomers, blouse and bloomers, dewy warm against your skin.Pretty breasts and little buttocks, oh! the Joycean sweets of sin,As I fumble at the button and elastics yours are in!

Kiss and whisper, kiss and whisper, murmur, tighten, stiffen, press;Knickers on the wicker rocker-such a sweet untidy mess-As your breath comes quicker quicker, mutely signal Molly's Yes!

Blouse and bloomers, blouse and bloomers, and a garter on the floor;Pimply breasts and chilly buttocks, beautiful no more:Did we wake the bloody landlord? Will he hammer at the door?

© Arthur James Marshall Smith