The Ride Home

O the beautiful filth
That is sexual guilt
Although its  over I'm still anxious
Of what just became us
Both explorers of new terrain
Imagination
Anticipation
Mental masturbation has left a stain
My boxers are slimy
My mustache reminds me
Of you dancing on my tongue
Rocking and grinding
My teeth scraping your areolas made it that much wetter
On the steering wheel my fingers are sticking together
And I almost lost control when you gripped my swollen
Pole with your folds of slippery hot flesh
I'm a hot mess
Visions of you topless bucking in motion
Throwing that ass got me off the gas coastin'
Cars appear to be headed for me
I loved how you spread it for me
Breathing in my ear; begging for more of me
And I'm begging for time
I've came too far to cum too fast
80 on my dash how I want you so bad
Illegal U-turn to feel the true burn
of the rug beneath my knees
Then the flood that I release
Though somehow I made it home
With the throbbing and contractions
of another orgasm waiting to happen
The scratching and the slappin'
Pussy farting and the clappin'
The screams, moans and screeches
Maybe I'll call you sometime to relive our little secret