Compatibility of the Sexes

JW, from JW’s Creative World, is one of the few people we’ve met since beginning A&k. He has put his blog on hiatus indefinitely; which is sad, because his creative talents span a variety of mediums: writing, art, and music just to name a few. In fact, that’s what inspired us to meet, since I dabble in various creative outlets, as well.

However, he has graciously allowed kat and I full access to his work. He’s done this out of the kindness of his heart after learning about our situation, which makes it difficult to have fresh material ready to post on our twice a week schedule.

While he lives a D/s lifestyle his creative work covers many areas, and we plan on exhibiting most of them: interspersed with our posts.

Kat and I have grown to love him (and his pretty lady and sexy sub) like family in the relatively short time we’ve known them. And we thank him from the bottom of our hearts for his self-less gesture and use of his creative work.

We hope you enjoy his diverse talents as we do.

 

Compatibility of the Sexes

 

When a good girl and a bad boy get betrothed,
he glimpses heaven while she catches hell,
their sex life is fast, furious, sporadic, and fleeting,
and the only heavenly treatment she’ll ever get
is during recuperation from her injuries in Saint something-or-other Hospital.

When a bad girl and a good boy get hitched
it is heaven up front but hell in the end
when he finds out the “good” sex was only her way
of gaining financial security through divorce of another love-struck fool.

When a bad boy and bad girl get together
their marriage is hell on Earth… but
with a sex life so heavenly satisfying
it must inevitably damn them for eternity.

When a good boy and good girl join as one
their marriage is the perfect union, heaven on Earth
with a sex life so hellishly boring
it can actually earn them sainthood
unless, of course, they pretend to be bad in the bedroom.

Alpha’s Bawdy Word Play: 15th edition

[Alpha’s modern version of bawdy rhymes and erotica similar to the burlesque and vaudeville periods.]

Salt-Peter
Do they still use salt-peter?
As they did quite long ago
When I was a boy
Or the boy was my dad
They slipped it in the meals
In the food that we had
Never given a choice
No voice of our own
And never had to be bad
A mess hall recipe’
In male-only institutions
A secret solution
To nature’s need…and morning woody
When missing your girl or wife
They figured less arousal…less strife
So, they measured out the salt-peter
A pleasure killing dirty trick
But some of us overcame
And still played the sexy game
When you can’t use a salty peter
You please your girl with a salty lick

Harry Hunk
Harry Hunk worked daily to build muscle
It serves him well for he’s won every tussle
He was hired to test security
To protect a queen’s purity
And he failed to get past her chastity belt and bustle

1849er Miner
An eighteen-forty-niner miner
Awoke with a notable shiner
Though he had no clue how he got it

A rather nice gent, his gold dust now spent
Bought rounds for the house, got fractured and bent
None of which explained how he got hit

A choice to survive, no wagon he would drive
A walk in fresh air might even revive
So, off thru the park at a non-sober strut

He chatted quite gleefully at nobody really
A fantasy wife he could touch quite freely
Except he groped and he grabbed a real butt

The gal was Miss Lucy, curvaceous and juicy
Who became quite flirtatious after the goosey
Though she turned rather quick…and oh my!

Her sizable breasts made her bra overstressed
Which blew off her blouse and left her half-dressed
That created an epidemic of male bug-eyes

Her clothes tattered and rent, and the miner a nice gent
He removed his own shirt and it was lent
To Miss Lucy who did cover, though she wasn’t really shy

But her fiancé’ had seen the eye-catching scene
Some say from his ears they saw steam
While he reared back and let the punch fly

The miner had luck, he was able to duck
Though confused, he yelled, “What the fuck!”
And flight, not fight, took control

Away he did run like a son of a gun
With his tipsy side thinking it’s fun
Till he tripped and forgot to tuck and roll

He saw a lady’s crack as she bent by a snack shack
So, down he went to earn the shiner now black
Which tells that part of the tale

But the snacking diner knew the drunken miner
A crush she had for him, this Miss. Spiner
And she took him home and offered him her tail

Her tail was far from rotten, so on her sheets of cotton
The miner’s shiner was quickly forgotten
And their faces both did glow

The miner struck it rich, a fine lady not a bitch
So, all was perfect for him, except for one glitch
If he ever drank again he’d be black and blue from head to toe

Leap Frog
While trying to create a trend
For both women and men
A chap with cross-eyes
Said, “Why don’t we sexualize
The child’s game of Leap Frog?”

Both sexes au natural
With women wearing strap-ons of hard gel
Each want to penetrate and pound
So, all crouch froggy style in the round
And leap over one to hump another bum like a horny dog

Alpha’s Bawdy Word Play: 14th edition

[Alpha’s modern version of bawdy rhymes and erotica similar to the burlesque and vaudeville periods.]

Johnny Six-Fingers
Johnny Six-Fingers
Was a singer
Who sang to the cops they say
He played the dice
And lived rather nice
Till craps altered his play
He thought it a lark
Saw Mac, the loan shark
Intent on rising again
He only aroused ire
Soon came under fire
From the mob’s collection men
When caught he did fidget
Losing digit after digit
He screamed and shed a few tears
It singled his focus
With a deadly hocus-pocus
He learned to prey on men’s fears
Turned shark against shark
Blood flowed in the dark
Gallons to appease his loss
When all was said and done
It wasn’t luck that won
Johnny’s brains made him the top boss
Johnny never did squeal
He made the cops a new deal
All for the sake of survival
For a piece of the pie
In this game of do-or-die
They took down rival after rival
He let his seconds oversee
While he lived a life of luxury
While spreading thighs for a kinky kick
He satisfied the pussy
Loved to make it extra juicy
With his tongue and six-finger trick

Ain’t no hero, ain’t no glory
Ain’t even a moral to this story
Sometimes life is just a throw of the dice
Those who win and those who lose
See how both sides break the rules
Survival of the fittest, or fittest for the vice

A Pussy Tale
From the lips of a friend I heard a tale
About a pussy that couldn’t swim but loved to sail
Until a shark fin
Knocked the pussy in
So, the pussy was now sushi, except for half its tail

Gypsy from Poughkeepsie
The gypsy from Poughkeepsie
Known for her hot sexy tail
She’ll spin you a yarn
And steal without harm
And never sees the inside of jail

The gypsy from Poughkeepsie
Has the tightest little tush
A consummate liar
With eyes of passion fire
Every man’s desire to enter and push

The gypsy from Poughkeepsie
That only takes it in the rear
She grifts and cons
Scams, jams, and slams
Then takes a jack-hammerin’ without fear

The gypsy from Poughkeepsie
With the “A” number one ass
Will steal you blind
While blowin’ your mind
Self-lovin’ with a dildo of glass

The gypsy from Poughkeepsie
With and All-American prime rump
Loves to wheel and deal
But takes time to feel
The pleasure and pain of a ravishing hump

The gypsy from Poughkeepsie
With a symmetrically beautiful butt
Has to steal to survive
But truly feels alive
With her chosen role as an anal slut

 

Have a good day!

 

Hard to Kill

[The following poem is nothing like the usual fare we post here. But long-time readers of our blog know much of my life has revolved around psychology and investigations, so this topic shouldn’t be too surprising.]

 

I never thought it would take so long
It turns out she’s rather hard to kill
But I don’t care how hard to kill she is
Nothing outlasts my mule-headed will

I tried killing her Monday
On Tuesday, I actually tried twice
I picked up a gun for Wednesday’s fun
In fact, I got two at half-price

I thought it would be done by noon
Then I figured it would be over by dusk
Two more failures, how does she do it?
Does she get a whiff of my musk?

I tried to push her off a cliff
Onto the wave-battered rocks below
Everything’s fine, then thoughts out of line
Was the push ill-timed? I’ll never know.

When she slept I tried to cut her
With a knife across the throat
But she opened her eyes at the just the right time
One more failure that I must note

But I’ll keep trying, I’ll never quit
Not till the day I do her in
In fact, I know what I’m going to try next
A Reaper’s Micky in her tonic and gin

There’s only room for one reality
So, she will always be my rival
It’s not a question of morality
Cuz’ she’s my split-personality
It’s strictly a case of survival

Whim and a Hunch: by Alpha & kat

[While considering the possibility of a D/s Dr. Seuss, kat and I had some laughs putting this collaboration together.]

 

On a whim and a hunch… I’d like to munch you for brunch
I would munch you a bunch… Then you’d munch me for lunch

Would you think it quite crude…if we both ate in the nude?
Tis’ neither rude nor crude…to eat our food in the nude

I hope you’re not a prude…and I hope you do not brood
And take it on a hunch…to munch a bunch in the nude

I love to lick and kiss…during moments such as this
A kiss that feels like bliss…a bliss you’d regret to miss

With your body so fine…now au natural to dine
Taste your nectar divine…a smooth and sweet pussy wine

Don’t you wish that we could…each forever dine so fine?
So fine that we can dine…me with yours and you with mine

My tongue upon your chest…love to munch your tasty breast
A truly flavored quest…to nibble tits on the crest

When I suck your nipple…pleasure begins to ripple
And nipple to nipple…makes both our pleasures triple

We both can take a peek…at the entrée’ tongue-in-cheek
It truly is the peak…a climax that makes you weak

But now it’s time to glut…and savor each other’s butt
Me a stag that’s in rut…and you Daddy’s horny slut

It is a tasty treat…enjoying each other’s seat
But with this tasty treat…we both know it’s not complete
Till there’s penetration…with a sense of elation
Fucking penetration…that’s cause for celebration

 

dr seuss 2