>I got on the train at Southampton, >And sat down alongside a young nun, >(Not Sister Christina, >This one was much cleaner,) >And wondered if she'd like some fun. > >The first stop is called Airport/Parkway, >I asked her if she'd like to make hay, >She gave me a glare, >And told me just where >I could take my hay maker, and go away. > >And so to the next station, Eastleigh. >She told me to stop being beastly, >"Keep your hands to yourself, >If you value your health, >I won't give in quite so easily." > >But by the time we reached win-chester, >I knew that my ardour impressed 'er. >She let my hand roam >O'er erogenous zones, >As, mentally at least, I undressed 'er. > >By the time that we reached Basingstoke, >I'd buried my face 'neath her cloak, >And she quivered in ripples, >As my lips sucked her nipples, >And her thighs I now started To stroke. > >The next station reached is called Woking, >and she surely knew I was not joking. >As we sped 'long the track, >She was flat on her back, >'Twixt her thighs now my todger was poking. > >By now we were coming to Clapham. >Her legs round my back she did wrap 'em. >As we crossed o'er the points, >That jiggled our joints, >And our climax at last it did happen. > >And as we drew in to Waterloo, >I smiled and said "Thanks be to you. >Now if you've got the time, >Try the old Essex line, >And see what young Peter can do." > >Tiddy. > >Just in case there any railway buffs reading this, the above is a >genuine and full route, though not, perhaps, the events thereon.
Last updated: Thu, 23 Sep 1999.