Picky Vicky

I know a horny whore called Vicky
But finding the right guy was tricky
The problem was, she was picky
She sought a dick to make her sticky

It’s true this doesn’t sound too romantic
But good or bad is purely academic
And Vicky, to be fair, is not monastic
Dependent on different sticks of plastic

But to date, she’d truly been a loser
Every man she knew was a boozer
Far too sozzled to try to amuse her,
Choose her and then abuse her

But you can’t pick and choose with an addiction
Inside there’s bound to be some friction
I told her straight ‘Make a selection!’
That’s the price to feel an erection

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