His name was Bert, or Dave, or maybe Rover
No that was the car I’m sure that he drove her
In when they came as a couple, over for tea
Just me and her and him and she.
“My, what a large nose,” exclaimed Marjorie one day
As Bert (or was it Dave) licked his bits where he lay
It was true, but nothing to the length of his lick
Or his mighty prodigious gargantuan prick.
Then one eve the invite arrived on the mat
“Bring two chairs, a chicken, some wine and a hat”
So we jumped in our oversized Bulgarian car
And sauntered on over, it wasn’t too far.
There was Dave (or was it Bert) in his smoking cravat
And suspended in wicker his dear lady sat
Trussed up all in leather and dripping with oils
I thanked god that last year she’d surgically removed all the boils.
“What is this malarkey,” I cried with aplomb
Or was it a raspberry, or apple or cum-
Quat…Our host rose to all fours and shouted out loud
“We’re swingers, dear chap, and of it we’re proud!”
Well, Marjorie was quite taken shy with the shock
And I, made or stouter stuff, looked fast at the clock
And made our excuses, “Bridge club at ten!”
We raced off and never spoke of the event again.
Except for that one time when home from work came I
To a Marjorie all trussed up in leather not shy
Of the fact that her mendips were touching the floor
And for days after the fact that her cloots would be sore.
I still see old Bert, no I’m sure he’s called Ron
Down at the station, our friendship is gone
But I have to admit to the world and pen in my log
That he is quite the most incredibly large S&M dog!
(c) 2007, Neil Gardner