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Poetry |
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Last Updated: 25/04/2008 13:41:04
Not Quite So White
By Amanda Lowe
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Snow-White, her pretty name was tinged with a mocking tone of irony
For men would frolic in her minge, she pulled them like a siren, she
Had the kennel boy do her doggy fashion, the groom shagged in the stable
And the cook she fucked with a spicy passion, on the banqueting table.
The Knights, the Earls, the Lords, she popped with gentrified precision
But their scabby little swords made Snow-White hoot with cruel derision
Of the men in the palace, she'd had the whole lot, the gorgeous and the hateable
Not searching for love, for she cared not one jot, but her appetite was insatiable
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Now she's heard in the woods that there was to be found a macho bunch of miners
With cocks so long that they touched the ground - just right for her vagina.
She travelled over rocky ground, through forest and dales she sought,
But it wasn't their cocks that were long, she found - 'twas their legs that were quite short.
But never one to frown upon a blessing in disguise
For the ratio was seven to one - Snow-White and seven guys.
The dwarves were men, and after all, they obliged with the gentlest of flattery,
Snow-White was thrilled, for they were small, could be hand held, and needed no battery.
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Doc had been to college, and, in sex he couldn't fail, he
Had a gynaecological knowledge of Snow White's genitalia.
And she knew how to melt the frown from the face of little Grumpy
By the time she'd rubbed him up and down, he was gagging for rumpity-pumpy.
Sleepy, he would spend his days all wrapped up in his blanket
And if his cock was too tired to play, then Snow-White, she would wank it.
Sneezey would come very quickly ('twas his party trick), and when
Snow-White tickled his dick with a feather, he would come again and again.
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Dopey could never finish off, till they gave him some Viagra,
Then all it took was the slightest cough, and his sperm flowed like Niagara
Happy, he never stopped joking, he was smiling all day because
He got Snow-White all a-choking, as his dick was the size of a horse.
Bashful was timid and really quite shy, but greased up, with butt plugs and whips
He really was quite a sensational guy, bringing pleasure to both sets of lips.
They forgot all about their mining for treasure, as the grunts of delight filled the air
Their days and their nights spent giving her pleasure, on a rota, non-stop, anywhere.
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One morning they woke up, all hell-bent on action, waiting for Snow-White's command
But Snow-White just laid there, she moved not one fraction, was this something new she had planned?
The dwarves were all stunned, she had drawn her last breath, she lay very still on the ground.
The conclusion they came to: they'd fucked her to death - they just stood there, not making a sound.
So they fashioned a coffin of silver and glass in which they could place their Snow-White
They placed her up high on a cold mountain pass, and guarded her morning and night.
A Prince on the mountain, was riding his horse, and there saw the love of his life
He persuaded the dwarves that he wanted her corpse, and that he would make her his wife.
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'Little men, let me take her away from this place - it really must be chilly, yeah?'
They thought he had a kindly face - he thought of necrophilia.
As he carried her off, the dwarves swore they saw, on Snow-white's lips, a smile
For he promised that they would be married by law, he'd be taking her right up the aisle.
But what of the mirror? The apples? The witch? Sorry, they didn't get a look in,
A clear oversight in the tale of Snow White and her glorious non-stop fucking.
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Copyright Amanda Lowe 2008
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