She had a figure

She had a figure, well-developed,
In her black ball frock well-enveloped.
When she took off the jacket of fur
He could hardly keep his eyes off her.

He’d nowhere in the world ever found
Someone with curves so buxomly round.
He pictured the actress, in his head,
Bouncing about with him in his bed.

When he approached to ask for a dance,
She said ‘Yes’, he exploited his chance.
He guided her in quick steps and swerves,
Stealing the odd fondle of her curves.

At the end of night he said “I do
Want to see more – I damn fancy you!
You’ve a most voluptuous figure,
I could make love to you with vigour.”

“There’s plenty of you to get hold of,
Made by the bountiful God Above.
I care not for girls thin as willow;
I want a living, breathing pillow!”