Сиська сиське говорила, В бок ее толкая мило:...

Tits boobs said
Pushing her side cute:
You don't want dear friend
Gentle caresses of peasant hands?
Tits boob replied:
I have long dreamed about it,
And she hoped God would give
The blouse will burst on us.
'Cause it's time for us to light up
I often dream of this.
Both of us go out into the light
We are more beautiful in the world.
we are like two big melons
Men clap their lips to us;
They kiss us here and there
And rub it gently with your hands.
And slander and caress,
They do not let go of themselves.
The sister answers her:
It is unlikely to switch off.
Because all rights
Captured the head.
She doesn't give a damn about boobs
Just let me think.
She doesn't need men's hands
She has a migraine from them.
Steel boobs rebel
And nipples swell ...
Heavy juicy,
The lift bursts transparent.
Then the head intervened
Do you need sex? Hell no!
Respond nonsense
I'm busy with poetry.
I probably hang
I'll tell you about the poetesses.
Their worldly interests
Do not affect sex.
They write rhymes about dreams
They write their diaries.
Their usual desires
Replaces verse and chat.
With directness in Russian
I summarize the moral:
Women don't think a boobs
And I confess very sorry.