Two Can Play At That Game! (For Gordon) Poem by Dee Wright
Two Can Play At That Game! (For Gordon)
Over my shoulder
he oogles the waitress
attending table no.3.
She’s sure some
looker
like a hooker
crossed with French maid.
He likes a girl
in uniform.
And out.
I reach underneath
and squeeze
his balls
hard!
He jumps to his feet.
“Ah, now my sweet...”
I smile sweetly at him.
“I’m so glad I got
your attention back! ”
“And anyway dearest
I quite fancy her myself! ”
the Other Woman my wife, is starting to wonder, why I’m eating at the restaurant, as often as i’ve started to. i think my wife has gotten lazy; in the way she serves dinner, with plastic cups & paper dishes. if only she knew… the Waitress always lays it on the table, which turns a simple 'meal'; into a indoor picnic, i really enjoy. especially, when she gives me, a real good 'hard' fork.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/5/2024 10:45:29 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Tee Hee! You are soooo naughty Dee Dee! HG: -) xx