The Tale of Fredrick Twist

This is the tale of Fredrick Twist
Who, tired of living 'off the wrist',
Saw one day in his monthly mag
An advert for a 'plastic shag'.

'Twas a talking doll complete with wig,
Ready and willing to give him a jig,
All made of finest P.V.C.
That's Poly Vinyl Cunt, you see.

'Twas motorised too, below the waist,
So quickly he sent his cheque post haste.
The package came, 'twas torn a bit
And out of it there peeped a tit.

Not having had a shag for weeks,
Fred blew her up and grabbed her cheeks,
Then switched the inviting minge to 'Go'
And turned the dial to 'Nice and Slow'.

Then when the motor didn't quibble,
He moved it up to 'Steady Nibble'.
But as he gave it just one kiss,
He heard a most annoying hiss.

It needed some repair, and fast,
He found a small elastoplast.
But out of puff, he couldn't blow,
Then thought, "I'll try some H2O".

The motor hummed with steady throb
And once more grabbed him by the knob.
His thrusts were just about to peak
when, shit, the damn thing sprang a leak!

At First there came the merest trickle.
Thought Fred "That puts me in a pickle",
But Dutch boy like, he rammed his thumb
Into the hole just by her bum.

Now water and electric parts
Don't mix, and so in fits and starts
The minge began to ebb and flow
Then simply wouldn't let him go!

An then, despite his frantic calls,
The doll had got him by the balls.
In tears, his long-sought shag cut short,
He pressed the button marked 'Abort'.

He struggled hard and with a grunt,
His dick escaped the vice like cunt.
And thumb withdrawn, the water drained,
As Fred looked on, his expression pained.

Then not to be outdone, our Fred
Repaired the doll again and said,
"Through the valve just near her ass,
I'll fill her up with Calor Gas".

The doll's gigantic tits and thighs
Inflated and began to rise
While Fred below with sinking feeling
Gazed up as it approached the ceiling.

But luckily he grabbed a leg
And using rope and one tent peg,
He tethered it to his divan -
He'd show the thing he was a MAN!

He Climbed aboard and, tied down thus,
It lay there, didn't make a fuss.
He pushed his prick up to the hilt
And thought "I like my birds well built".

The Motor whirred, there'd been no leak,
The voice-box clicked, began to speak,
But then instead of "Please fuck me",
It simply said "You're eight stone three".

When, after all, he'd had his shag
he lay relaxed, and lit a fag.
His big mistake as, with a BOOM!
Fred disappeared - so did the room.

The tattered dolly and poor Fred
Joined flights of ducks right overhead.
Through blackened lips, to nearest duck,
Fred said "Now, that's what I call a fuck!!!"

Author unknown - but I liked it so I kept it.