I saw it on the telly and I thought it looked like fun
Our Gert, though, wasn’t sure – she’s got the sex drive of a nun;
“Oh no! this really isn’t me” she said with coy reserve
But “Bugger that!” I thought “This is a treat that I deserve”.
I took her swinging
Our first time swinging
Which started with us innocently mingling;
But it wasn’t long before
She had got beyond the door
That Our Gert was wanting more – her spine was tingling.
She’d set her beady eyes upon a youthful handsome hunk
He’d got big ears to hold on and she hoped as big a trunk
The thought had got her steaming; she was ready, she was hot
But me? I felt quite poorly when I saw what he had got.
We were swopping
There was no stopping
When she saw what he was hiding – it was whopping.
So after a quick snog
She was howling like a dog
Once his prodigious chopper started chopping.
I sat there at the bar downing pints of Watneys ale
My spirits getting lower and my pallour getting pale
As I watched my wife and lover boy have lots and lots of fun
No longer did she seem to have the sex drive of a nun.
He’s was a swinger
Now she’s a swinger
He had got her all worked up with his best finger
And his certainty of touch
Had her whimpering so much
She’d taken to this game like a pro swinger.
This wasn’t what I’d come for, not at all, I have to say
I rather thought it would be me to get my end away
But then I saw two beauties and I thought my luck was in
And a twitch became a semi that became a rolling pin.
I was swinging
Now this was swinging!
Two naughty girls and me; my heart was singing;
But when they got undressed
I became much less impressed
Discovering that the two of them were minging.
It turns out that these ladies had played me a dirty trick
It seems they were these “modern” girls that sport an 8” prick
This revelation came to me less as a nice surprise
Than horror as they saw the fear and terror in my eyes.
I was swinging
Alarm bells ringing
As on to my arse-hole I was clinging
I defended it in vain
And endured the after-pain
As days later my raw blurter was still stinging.
The weeks have passed and I cannot forgive these rotten swine
I dared not even tell Our Gert about this shame of mine
I fear I’ll never shape up to those hunky swinging men
She pesters me and keeps on asking when we’ll go again.
But no more swopping
This game I’m dropping
The thought of it just gets my hampton flopping;
I’d rather that you’d stick
Red hot pins into my prick
You can shove it up your arse – this wife swopping.
