I am craving for something quite filthy

A device that the devil might build me

A dong at one end

A long shaft with a bend

That when fondled spits out something milky

You should never make love to a puppet

No matter how well the maker does stuff it

Its mouth might look sweet

But every one lacks their feet

And the end with hand's where you'd fuck it

A priest is a leader of people

A guide bringing masses from evil

But some go astray

And claim they're not gay

But rape scores of young boys in the steeple

An abortion is tragic two ways

Once for the toll a mom pays

But also the waste

They're not converted to paste

And served to the starving on trays

I've got a small broken phallus

A member that's been treated with malice

It's been beaten and burned

But one thing I've learned

Is I can strike a match on the callus

I wasn't sure what to post tonight, so I made up some filthy limericks. These are originals, but certainly nothing to be proud of. Enjoy!

Her husband had passed out between us

And her nude form affected my penis

So I gave her my inches

And a few playful pinches

But he awoke with a stroke 'cause he'd seen us

My drinking was making me floppy

So the whore had to balance atop me

Some juices exuded

So I quickly concluded

Her seconds were decidedly sloppy

She explained when I inserted my thumb

That a beating would help her to cum

So I bit off her clit

And made her admit

That her vagina was actually numb

My girl lost a toy in my anus

And I insisted removal be painless

So she reached deep inside

But it continued to hide

Now my doctor is sure of my gayness