The Lady Of The Manor (Variation)

The Lady of the Manor, with Princess at her side, at her side, at her side,

Was travelling ‘round Bisley looking for a decent ride, decent ride,

decent ride.

With her cavernous vagina and her legs spread open wide,

And her famous pair of B cups, E cups, T cups,

Hanging down between her thighs, between her thighs, between her

thighs.

First, she tried the Artists, which looked like it was shut,

A three-hour lock-in later: out she crawled, a broken slut.

The L&M was packed with markers, all spoiling for a fight.

“My God,” the Princess cried, “We’ll be here all fucking night.”

The North London saw the Princess spend an hour on her knees,

Being taken roughly from behind by thirty OAPs

The Twenty was deserted, save for bottles on the shelf,

There was no one there to fuck her, so she had to fuck herself.

She tried the Muzzle-Loaders, but the members are all gay.

After seven wrinkly blow-jobs she just had to run away.

She went up to the Army, where she bent to touch her toes.

They left her arsehole like a windsock, and cum-stains on her nose.

At last, she reached the Surrey, where she climbed up on the table.

She said “Meet me at the clock tower – I’ll take as many as I’m able.”

The firing point on Stickledown was softer on her knees;

There was such a queue to fuck her that they had to shoot in threes.

She fucked them on the firing point, she fucked them everywhere,

She even fucked the Queen’s Prize winner in his fucking chair.