Unexpected

It hits you quick         
One second you're at your desk, coffee in hand         
The next you're on a spring mattress, fucking         
        
You can't avoid it         
The feeling of being filled up just to the point of breakage is satisfying
The way you contract around his cock is pleasurable         
        
The pleasure stems from the impossibility of your reality         
How could your cunt, so hidden and pure,
Accept this foreign object so willingly         
   
But here it is, dripping with a slick fluid         
The external physical equivalent to the rapid beating of your heart         
And it pulses when it is empty         
        
Fingers, cock, the Devil knows what else, satisfies it         
But his lips sucking your clit makes you convulse         
Your body shaking from the welcome invasion of privacy         
        
His fingers are still pumping inside you         
Your back arches and your toes curl
There's fucking and then there's fucking    
   
And then you're flat on the bed, your breasts pressing into the sheets  
He takes you from behind, both hand possesively grabbing your hips         
        
And then you're bent over a wood table, your clothing on except for your skirt         
It's hitched high enough to allow for dexterous fingers to toy with your clit until you're begging for it         
        
And then you're blindfolded, your eyelids fluttering against the fabric  
Hands brush over your breasts, pinch your nipples while teeth mark the sensitive skin of your thighs         
        
And then you're begging, but you don't know for what as he tightens his grip on your neck  
Your breathing staggers but a familiar heat rushes between your legs         
        
And then he is taking you without permission, bruising your thighs with his wanting hands and forcing you out of control         
And without control you can breath in the heady scent of sex without repercussion         
        
Too soon you're thrown back to your desk, your coffee cold in its mug         
The familiar scent of sex hits you         
You close your legs and shift uncomfortably in your seat         
        
There's fucking and there's  fucking    
And there's the lusty thoughts of your mind
Pinpointing your desires         
        
--         
An exercise in using simple language focused on the physical while avoiding descriptive similies and comparisons using imagery