An Ode To Underground Tarts
An erotic poem about swinging, or is it about underground trains. Either way, it’s all just a bit of good old fashioned British humor.
Now I will confess to you a secret if you’ll keep
That every single working day, with lots of women I do sleep.
It doesn’t matter if they’re single, married, or divorced.
The age or size is of no concern, nor is their color, of course.
There is something special about that great surprise
When taking in her beauty through my bleary eyes.
The skeptics say “How could you?” as they lecture me in life
About the fact I’m married and should be faithful to my wife.
But my wife knows all about it and in fact it makes her grin
To think that many people would consider it a sin.
But alas! It’s not so grandiose; in fact, you’ve made a boob!
‘Cos all these women I sleep with are just passengers on the tube!
We sit there, side by side just dozing and our heads begins to flop.
Snoozing like back-benchers, just waiting for our stop.
And when we reach our destinations, politely we do nod,
And go our own directions home, all upon our tod.
So if you thought of any other reason, then maybe
You’ve got a wild imagination or a touch of jealousy!
But if I’ve made you smile a bit or laugh right from the heart
I dedicate this ode to you, my fellow underground tart!
AN ODE TO UNDERGROUND TARTS is an erotic poem presented by eroticprose.com. The home of sexy stories and Literotica.