Round Trip

I'm draped here, half dressed, half hallucinating in the heat
waiting, images of us and our last weekend's escapade on my mind.
Distance is a bitch, but I'm here again to sate it, (a little longer this time)
and, oh, how I have missed your face.
Car door?
My stomach jumps higher into my ribcage to see you thump in
in steel-toe boots carrying your shirt

You're filthy in mechanic's jeans
the brand on your boxers showing just above the front seam
Your hands are clean, though I know their engine grease stain
stays on weekdays   
You work hard and like it well enough that way
It shows in the sweat on that sun-beat chest -
subtle signs and light defining lines 
Yeah, it's hot in here

Calm,    
Smile,
"How was your day?"
You can tell by my tone -- don't bother to speak.
You undress the rest in what feels like slow-motion
button by button, menacing manhood rises from its captivity in faded blue
and I love the undoing, forearms flex.
I return the favor with a playful, turn-around-thumbs-down ass swish removal
of my own
then we kiss,
I touch-
your fingers wind through and grip my hair.
Now I'm starting to sweat.
God, it is hot.

Blood surges south as I stroke you long, soft
and you guide as I slide, bare breast, down your body to take you in French.
I feel you tense, taste is exquisite, joy is evident and I can't wait any more.
I reach and my nails go primal on your abs for a moment,
mouth full, I moan discontent.
Fast, I'm up with my back against the wall
your hands holding me high by the backs of my thighs
and you enter rough, but I've been ready forever.

I close my eyes to feel the friction permeate denser
my swollen walls close around you over and over
and I arch, release, with a shudder, from my core and my mind
the desire that had been pent.
You have me, then,    
to lie a little longer this time.  
 
 
 
Note: This is attempt number 2 at erotics! I blame you, Jack Heslop. ;]