‘Who was Pietro Aretino?’ you might ask, and be genteely appalled to discover that he was the father of modern pornography.  Born in Italy in 1492 , the year that Columbus landed his trio of ships in the Carribean, Aretino was an author, playwright and satirist and spent a lot of his life not being anywhere for long because his satires had upset somebody or other almost everywhere.  He was a great friend of the painter Titian, who painted his portrait several times.  Famously, Aretino wrote a collection of poems entitled ‘Sonnetti Lussorioso’ which translated means ‘The Lust Sonnets’.  On top of all this his friend Guilio Romano (1499-1546) pupil of Raphael, painter and architect, produced more than a few exquisitely explicit paintings to accompany Aretino’s written work.  You can, if you feel driven to it, look up one or two of these splendidly rude paintings under Romano’s name on the internet.  They are beautifully executed and superb examples of later Renaissance painting.

And so to lust:

Herewith some lusty Aretino extracts to provide you with a taste, the slightest sensation of the pornographer’s art, and drawn from ‘The Picador Book of Erotic Verse’ Picador 1978.

Q: Brother Martin with Sister Charity one night
Suddenly thought, when full-tilt up her belly,
‘We might breed Antichrist,’ and pumped his jelly
Into her arsehole. Was he wrong or right?

A: Lay brother Martin’s was a fine old stunt
To come and not let Antichrist come too,
By finishing up the arse the noble screw
The Half-baked sod had started off in front.

Q: The abbess woke up frantic after she
Had dreamed all night of eating gooseberry fool,
To find her mouth full of the abbot’s tool.
How had she sinned, though? Greed? Or lechery?

A: She didn’t sin, as far as we make out,
In either way. It was an accident-
Although if she had found it in her cunt
Or up her arse, there might have been some doubt.

Q:Sister Prue, to relieve a bout of nerves
Which blocked the flow of holy orisons [prayers]
Had herself screwed by two fat friars at once.
The question is, what penance she deserves.

A: If it was just to let her prayers out
She had them penetrate her to the hilt,
She needn’t feel the smallest prick of guilt:
There is no penance laid on the devout.

[AND LAST OF ALL, TO FINISH UP, TO HELP THIS GLORIOUS EPISODE OF UNADULTERATED HUMPING  COME TO AN END WITH A  PORK-COCKING CLIMAX…]

Q: A Jesuit was in the missionary
Posture with Sister Lucy when his post,
Being a stranger there itself, got lost.
Well, was it sacrilege or sodomy?

A: Poor ignorant Jesuit, you could hardly call
Him sacrilegious, but he was a dunce
Not to know arse-sensations from a cunt’s-
Being a qualified sodomite, after all.

‘TIS INTERESTING, AND PROBABLY EDUCATIONAL TO NOTE THAT SOME OF THE BEST OF RIOTOUSLY EXPLICIT, UNINHIBITED POETRY OF THIS NATURE IS INVARIABLY WRITTEN BY CHAPS OF A BI-SEXUAL DISPOSITION.

JOHN WILMOT, EARL OF ROCHESTER IS ONE EXAMPLE. ARETINO IS ANOTHER.

COME ALONG YOU HETEROS! WE CAN DO BETTER THAN THIS!