If the Weather man says..  Repost

Do you remember that first time with me, had we kissed?
I remember taking off and handing over my knickers though;  
Standing still as you remarked on the quality and feel before
wrapping them around your equipment erect, as you sat in the
armchair watching the television, Ordering me to raise my
skirts you did, as you whistled in appreciation, was made to
watch you as you played to a steady rhythm. Hearing the
weatherman speak along with your quickening pace, Seeing your
body go tense, watching as it flowed down and over what was
mine, soaking into the fabric as you wiped and cleaned, before
being told to put them back on and leave, your eyes glued to the
box. Picking up the payment from the dresser as I went my
way, feeling you against my skin with every step taken, before
closing the door behind me and stepping out.  
  
The man from the box was right,  
A wet and waaarm afternoon ahead..