Have A (Sexy) Feminist Christmas!

A Feminist Christmas Poem

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the old flat
Not a creature was stirring, not even a cat
The shoes were all lined on the mat by the door
In hopes that snow would not melt on the floor

The feminist was nestled all snug in her bed
while visions of vibrators vibrated in her head
And boys in their boxers and boys in their briefs
Just had some "me-time" into their kerchiefs

When out on the street there arose such a clatter
The feminist sprung from her bed to see what was the matter
Away to the front door she flew with her sash
(To close her nightgown so she wouldn't flash)

The moon on the boob of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to the people below
When, what to her wondering eyes should appear
But a young couple, doin' it in the rear!

With the half-naked guy so lively and quick
She knew in a moment it would be over in a lick
More rapid than eagles his thrusts they came
And he whistled, and shouted, and yelled out her name;

"Oh Brenda, wait Brittany? No, Tiffany...or Tia?
Is it Tori? Or Laurie? Not Laura...it's Leah!"
To the top of the porch, leaned up on the wall
The feminist dashed away, dashed away, dashed down the hall

As poles help with the pitching of a tent
so too did this young woman give consent
and on down the hallway the feminist flew
Til she ran into a housemate or two

And then, in a twinkling, she heard on the roof
the unmistakable sound of a "woof"
As she drew to her door and turned around
the couple from apartment 4 fell down the stairs with a bound

He dressed all in latex, from his head to his toes
She wearing nothing but some fishnet panty hose
A bundle of toys he had flung on his hip
While in her two hands she cradled a whip

His eyes - how they shifted! His face all blushed!
His cheeks were like roses, his face was so flushed
His droll little mouth was about to apologize
When his lady friend silenced him with her eyes

The stump of the whip he held tight in his mouth
And he kept his submissive eyes trained south
She said "sorry for this, I mean - hell we
were just going to get some more lubricating jelly"

Then she led him to their door by his tiny rhinestone collar
It was easy to see which one of them was the brawler
But a wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave her to know she had nothing to dread

He spoke not a word, but went straight inside
And his lady friend loudly tanned his hide
Tonight the feminist had seen just two kids of femme
It takes all kinds, even BDSM

She sprang to her bed, turned on by the night
and got herself off, as is her right
And, she thought, as she slowly drifted away
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good lay!"