Lucinda Lastikova is a girl that men would lie for.
She’d attributes that many girls would say that they would die for.
We first met, as I drove my car, from off the dock, at Dover.
She always made an entrance, did the lovely Lastikova.
I was waiting in a queue, as she crept from ‘neath a lorry.
She slipped into my car so fast & breathed, “Please help me, sorry.”
Before I could protest, she coiled her arms around my neck;
Just as a copper beckoned me. Oh no! a border-check.
I slowly wound my window down & thought, “He’ll have me soon.”
Lucinda blew a kiss to him and whispered, “Honeymoon.”
The look of envy on his face assured me we’d get through.
And as we drove to safety, Lucinda said, “You’ll do.”
I stopped the car at Woolage Green, expecting her to leave.
She pleaded she’d nowhere to go & wept into my sleeve.
I started-up the car again & got to the M2.
Heading now for Gillingham, not knowing what to do.
She sobbed, in broken English that her parents had to pay
Some men, who said they’d find her work, back here, in the UK.
But once they left her homeland, in faraway Ukraine,
The work the men had planned for her, had been made very plain.
“I ran away & hid.” She said, “I won’t be a sex-slave.”
Then thanked me for my help & purred I must be very brave.
I wallowed in her flattery & felt I was in Heaven,
Not in the Dartford tunnel, heading for the M11.
As we continued north, Lucinda told me of her plight
And pleaded would I take her home, to shelter, for the night.
I turned off the M11 for food, then shopped awhile, in Leicester.
She looked a million dollars, when I’d fed her up & dressed ‘er.
Her fashion-sense was trashy, mini-skirted & high-heeled
But with her face and figure, she’d a look that still appealed.
She kissed me, once back in the car & breathed, “You’ve been so kind.
I don’t know how to thank you. Have you anything in mind?”
I said I’d make the spare bed up, when we got to my flat.
She kissed me, long & hard and said, “There’ll be no need for that.
I get so scared, when I’m alone, have dreams, the whole night through.
Nightmares of those horrid men; please let me sleep with you!”
She made me promise she’d be safe, in my flat, as she slept.
I snuggled-in, beside her, well, a promise must be kept!
The night was just incredible. Where did she learn all that?
And God knows what my neighbours heard, in the adjacent flat.
Her one night stay turned into weeks, we lived as man & wife.
The weeks turned into months, it was the best time in my life.
I kept her, as she’d nothing but her gratitude was good.
She repaid me & very well, the only way she could.
She taught me things I never knew, the sex was just fantastic.
Her drawers were up & down so much, I called her “Lucy Lastik!”
I found out, quite by accident, when I came home, one day.
Lucinda showed her gratitude to everyone, that way.
She was paying a delivery-man, who’d brought some online shopping.
She must have bought an awful lot, ‘cos, boy he took some stopping!
I chucked them both out, in the street, our love-affair was over.
And that’s the last I ever saw of Lucy Lastikova.
So, if you’re channel-crossing, then before the ferry’s docked.
Watch out for Juicy-Lucy & take care your doors are locked.
For, though the sex was super & it was, believe you me.
I later tested positive, for bloody H.I.V.!