there’s a slight sense of loss when cumming on a Sunday
even in the comfort of your own home
even in the soberingly tame arms of your own sweet spouse
a time is scheduled wherein the cumming is to take place
effort toward that by “what is avoidance?”
don’t thwart, don’t piss me off
the sweet and angular giant sneaks behind
steal me a kiss, and dim signal fire
I meet you there and commence the act of a Sunday’s nap betrayal.
crash two handsome bodies together
their well acquainted friction both pleasant and tedious
I hope you didn’t catch that I yawned once.
you pull up the sides of 90’s satin bikini panties
I would not have chose , but I fantasize that I don’t know you
…and such give all too much every singly integrity to a perversity.
laying on my side and letting the milky white liquid
potency; drift down the right inner thigh, until at last!
It rolls down cunt-ry hills to the bed: ”Shit Babe! We gotta wash the sheets”
slits of light pry, cheap bamboo shades
cast a dim yellow gloom of a lost workday onto the floor.
heart sits somewhere: contentment and half-hearted despondency