Motel Nooner

The Palm Paradise charges
by the hour, and when we meet on
Wednesdays during lunch, I almost
explode once we're in the dark room
and I have you hoisted on the dresser
and the ends of our tongues play with
the one strand of spittle like the web of
pre-come that runs from the tip of my cock
to your lip once you've got me
undressed and have pushed me onto the bed
stained by five-hundred come shots no detergent
can ever truly remove.

But remember the first afternoon when I wouldn't
let you off the dresser and I pushed up your skirt
and spread your supple thighs and pushed your panties
aside with my cock and drove it in?  You had to throw
those panties out when my load leaked back out
and drenched them with the thick stink of chlorine.

I'd call it quits but my wife won't let me fuck her tits the way you do, won't let me fire my seven creamy dollops of rich milky spunk up onto your neck every week for the necklace youkeep coming back to wear.