My prim wife despises coition.
It’s indecent and leads to perdition.
She hopes, with great passion,
It goes out of fashion.
(NB: this means human extinction.)
She shuns the temptations of mammon
And wouldn’t do anything common.
She gives to the poor
And cleans the church floor.
In short, she’s a very “good woman.”
She dresses to look really frumpy.
(She’d never appeal to old Trumpy.)
Her countenance stern
Is certain to spurn
Any man seeking wild rumpy-pumpy.
Deluded, she thinks that her “glamour,”
Could rouse horny men into clamour,
For nookie. No worry!
Her attitude frosty
Would rule out an affaire d’amour.
She fears her imagined allure
Might trigger my instincts impure.
To avert such depravity
She’s sealed off each cavity
To ensure that her virtue’s secure.
A letter’s come out of the blue.
It seems I’ve a friend who’s quite new.
She sounds very spirited
And most uninhibited.
I wonder what thrills may ensue.
Our date was a total success.
I admired her provocative dress.
We swapped tales so risqué
they’d make libertines frisky.
My arousal was hard to suppress.
My first wife abominates sex.
It’s messy and lewd, she objects.
She can’t understand
Why it hasn’t been banned,
But that’s why she’s now called “my ex.”
