I’d just like to prefix this piece with a small but significant… Sorry Mum! 😉
Aliens are partial
to playing with many a sex toy,
but these are not commonly available in space
for them to enjoy.
So aliens come visiting to earth,
not to meet you,
But because they want to raid your stash of boudoir toys
and fetish taboo.
They fly into your house,
through your chimney stack,
Straight to the bedroom closet,
excited to begin the kinky ransack.
They like it clean, they like it dirty,
but most of all they love to be playful,
And connect with each other in activities
that some would find distasteful.
They delight in dressing up,
indulging their fantasies through role play,
In deviant scenarios
like the one with the hunter and his prey.
They attempt to bungee from the window
using the harness of a strap-on,
With the crotch splitting jolt at the bottom they realise
why it takes elastic for that to be fun.
Some beauty conscious alien ladies,
don’t like to impose,
But they find the vibrator gives a great shine
to the webbing between their toes.
As creative little people can,
they make a catapult out of a dildo,
It’s so much fun playing alien flick
#alternativegames with the toys of a nympho.
They use nipple clamps as chains
in games of subjugation,
And dangle from the ceiling fans
experimenting with elevation.
The spanking paddle is great fun
for bouncing buddies off the wall,
Their S&M rampages often become
a full on sex brawl.
Their orgies in your bedroom
are satisfyingly orgasmic,
They deem your stash of sex toys
to be engagingly fantastic!
So if, when you get back,
you find your toys have moved
You might want to clean them
– they’ve been alien-abused!
And for all of you who don’t have children(!) I have quoted the original – awesomely fantastic – book, by Claire Freedman, below:
Aliens love underpants,
Of every shape and size.
But there are no underpants in space,
So here’s a big surprise…
When aliens fly down to Earth,
They don’t come to meet YOU…
They simply want your underpants –
I’ll bet you never knew!
Their spaceship’s radar bleeps and blinks
The moment that it sees
A washing line of underpants,
All flapping in the breeze.
They land in your back garden,
Though they haven’t been invited.
“Oooooh, UNDERPANTS!” they chant,
And dance around, delighted.
They like them red, they like them green,
Or orange like satsumas.
But best of all they love the sight,
Of Granny’s spotted bloomers.
Mum’s pink frilly knickers
Are a perfect place to hide
And Grandpa’s woolly longjohns
Make a super-whizzy slide.
In daring competitions,
Held up by just one peg,
They count how many aliens
Can squeeze inside each leg.
They wear pants on they feet and heads
And other silly places.
They fly pants from their spaceships and
Hold Upside-Down-Pant Races!
As they go zinging through the air,
It really is pants-tactic.
What fun the aliens can have,
With pingy pants elastic!
It’s not your neighbour’s naughty dog,
Or next-door’s funny game.
When underpants go missing,
The ALIENS are to blame!
But quick! Mum’s coming out to fetch
The washing in at last.
Wheee! Off the aliens all zoom,
They’re used to leaving fast…
So when you put your pants on,
Freshly washed and nice and clean,
Just check in case an alien
Still lurks inside, unseen!