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terry-collettPoems
He used to deliver Groceries to Mrs Ushmore as a kid and She’d say, bring it into The kitchen, Henry, and Put it down on the side, Why, you must be thirsty After carrying that Heavy load to my door, And he’d go in with the Groceries and lay them Down where she had shown him And looked around the place Trying hard to avoid Looking at young Mrs Ushmore who was dressed in The skimpiest of things And pretended to be Looking around at the Shelves and gas cooker and Out the large window. What are you having, she Asked, Coke? Yeah, that’ll be Fine, he replied, looking Over her shoulder at The wallpaper of bright Yellow flowers. Have you Seen my ***** She asked. Miss Glissy, I call her. Henry shook his head and Looked briefly at her. No, He replied, getting a Quick glimpse of her big ******* Fighting to escape from The black bra. Here, she said, Have a Coke and don’t go Rushing it now, don’t want You to get the hiccups And have your mother come Over here telling me Off. No, I won’t, he said, Sipping the Coke, tasting Each mouthful, letting it Rest on his tongue. I love My ***** she said, but My husband, Clive, he has Little to do with her, Says she’s nothing to be Too fussed about. Henry Swallowed the small mouthful. His eyes settled like small Butterflies on her thighs, Focussing where her black Suspenders met the brown Stockings and the skin stretched Out there like nothing he’d Seen before, not even Amy Shortdove, showed him That much for her two dimes. Would you like to stroke Miss Glissy? She asked, giving Henry a wide-eyed stare. No, I better be off, Henry said gulping down The last remaining Coke. Mr Ashton don’t like Me hanging around and I’ve loads more to do and Maybe another time, Mrs Ushmore, I can Stroke your ***** Sure, she Said smiling, I’m sure she’d Like that. Henry rode his Bike away not looking Back, not letting her see He was interested, Not letting her think he’d Ever stroke Miss Glissy In a thousand years let Alone days or weeks, And he never did see Or stroke Mrs Ushmore’s ***** but he often Dreamed he did and enjoyed The dream, with him and Miss Glissy purring and both Of them licking the cream.
0
Apr 4, 2012
Apr 4, 2012 at 4:30 AM UTC
MRS USHMORE'S *****
He used to deliver Groceries to Mrs Ushmore as a kid and She’d say, bring it into The kitchen, Henry, and Put it down on the side, Why, you must be thirsty After carrying that Heavy load to my door, And he’d go in with the Groceries and lay them Down where she had shown him And looked around the place Trying hard to avoid Looking at young Mrs Ushmore who was dressed in The skimpiest of things And pretended to be Looking around at the Shelves and gas cooker and Out the large window. What are you having, she Asked, Coke? Yeah, that’ll be Fine, he replied, looking Over her shoulder at The wallpaper of bright Yellow flowers. Have you Seen my ***** She asked. Miss Glissy, I call her. Henry shook his head and Looked briefly at her. No, He replied, getting a Quick glimpse of her big ******* Fighting to escape from The black bra. Here, she said, Have a Coke and don’t go Rushing it now, don’t want You to get the hiccups And have your mother come Over here telling me Off. No, I won’t, he said, Sipping the Coke, tasting Each mouthful, letting it Rest on his tongue. I love My ***** she said, but My husband, Clive, he has Little to do with her, Says she’s nothing to be Too fussed about. Henry Swallowed the small mouthful. His eyes settled like small Butterflies on her thighs, Focussing where her black Suspenders met the brown Stockings and the skin stretched Out there like nothing he’d Seen before, not even Amy Shortdove, showed him That much for her two dimes. Would you like to stroke Miss Glissy? She asked, giving Henry a wide-eyed stare. No, I better be off, Henry said gulping down The last remaining Coke. Mr Ashton don’t like Me hanging around and I’ve loads more to do and Maybe another time, Mrs Ushmore, I can Stroke your ***** Sure, she Said smiling, I’m sure she’d Like that. Henry rode his Bike away not looking Back, not letting her see He was interested, Not letting her think he’d Ever stroke Miss Glissy In a thousand years let Alone days or weeks, And he never did see Or stroke Mrs Ushmore’s ***** but he often Dreamed he did and enjoyed The dream, with him and Miss Glissy purring and both Of them licking the cream.
terry-collett
Written by
terry-collett
English
Apr 4, 2012
Apr 4, 2012 at 4:30 AM UTC
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