Now Jane, she had an itch to scratch
That she with no-one shared
She'd die of sheer embarrassment
Before she ever dared.

Until the day a sex expert
Gave Jane opinion frank
If you don't give it one more try
You'll die without a wank

But how, asked Jane its never worked
I fear its taken ill
Relax the expert smoothly said
Relax, lie back and chill

So Jane, good Jane, obedient girl
Did just as Gloria* said
She shooed her cats and shushed the child
And took herself to bed.

And there, amidst her panoply
Of low light, candles, scent
She spread her legs, gave up a prayer
And for orgasm went.

She took a tube of lubricant
Squeezed out a careful drop
And then with “fuck it” and a sigh
She squelched the rest on top!

She rubbed, and rubbed and pulled and stroked
And then she rubbed some more
She kept on rubbing half the night
She woke the next day sore

Night after night did gentle Jane
With gritted teeth essay
Pulling, pushing, shoving, shushing
Til the break of day

It doesn't work she sadly said
Before she asked herself:
“That chill the expert told me of,
Perhaps its something else?”

So next up she tried freezing lube
Which left her feeling cold
And altogether out of sorts
If truly truth be told

First frost, then tingle, fruit and cloves
Will tiger balm fulfill me?
It didn’t. So this foolish girl
Tried one more time - with chilli

The screams, the howls the fuss that followed
Were witness to her pain.
I won’t be trying that she sobbed,
No never not again

Next up, excuse me for the pun,
She put inside a dildo
Twas pleasant hard and not too bad
But cumming?  Oh no.  Still no.

The answer her best friend advised
Was different sensation
And so her quest then took a turn
In search of good vibration

The bullet almost did the trick
The pink non-doctor too
But she got shot of both of them
for what they didn’t do

Which was of course, persist enough
As batteries proved quite useless
And left her lying sadly wanting
Steaming in her juices

Mains-power it really had to be
She found an Ebay bargain
A hi-speed dibber, nothing less
To work her lady garden

And so it might had not disaster
Struck our sleepy jane
Who dozing off quite pleasantly
Woke to a fail again

She guessed at first, the poor thing had
Buzzed just the way it should
Then coughed and spluttered, over-heated:
Singeing!  This ain’t good!

“For 20 mins, no longer, use”,
She read upon the side
Oh dear! The clock said many more
And now the thing has died.

Was this the end, it seemed to be
Until she found a store
In Hoxton square she chanced on it
She passed on thru the door

And there inside her mind was boggled
By such a wealth of gadgets
That buzzed and tingled, even pumped
Oh my! she said.  Its magic

And shyly testing, teasing trying
She found herself a wand
Twas purple and it had ten speeds
She took it in her hand

Then gift-wrapped, paid for, hurry home,
She scarce believed her luck
But back inside, upon her bed
Twas time to.. . run amuck

And here a veil, I think we must
On what came next now draw
Except to say what came was Jane
Not once, not twice, but more

She’s grateful for her magic wand
Pleased she made one last push
But over all she’d like to thank
The girls who work at Sh!

* * * * * * * * * *

Thank you Jane! We can't wait to see you again!