Farting & Fucking with Martians After Dessert

       
The last time I farted during foreplay        
she turned my head into a spade by dawn        
I wound up playing cuddle my shadow on the sofa        
scraping sleep off a rock for breakfast        
         
But tonight will be different        
the greediest kid in me        
the punk who's almost forgotten          
how a slick dick works        
is groping gently          
as she moans in the dark        
and while sticky fingers clean out her cookie jar        
I feel the scream of musk fire burning          
tasting sweeter than a tongue's hot lick        
         
She is sweating        
her eyelids heavy,          
fluttering on the brink of          
Don't you fucking stop.          
         
Her purple bra and panties          
wink approval from the chair        
even the way they dangle is tidy          
Thanks to her          
my whole apartment is neat        
and I am hard        
as hard as learning Italian.        
         
It's been almost a week        
my balls are rattling        
and my cock's been starved...        
         
You better not fart,          
she whispers          
         
What...?        
         
Even though the sheets are aching          
to the song of her swollen nipples          
teasing long black hair to her waist        
even as she gasps          
in a world of rushing breath        
where blood roars free          
and you can pump up balloons        
to open a dam in a heartbeat        
         
She tells me        
I better not fart.        
         
She always insists          
everything's neat          
all tidy and clean        
so naturally,          
I start to feel guilty        
and begin to regret          
the late night olives        
belching one Martini too many        
the ocean of seared pink clams        
all the finer flavors from Romano's        
drowning in garlic        
conspiring to deny me          
room for some real dessert        
         
Dessert is now,          
I tell her.        
         
Dessert is now, amore        
now, baby        
now...        
         
The way she talks        
you'd think nothing nasty ever popped out          
of her pretty little star sign asshole        
that maybe even a cactus          
might smile like a rose        
but tonight I don't care if she never returns        
I'm wilder than a gladiator on heat        
so I get in first          
before I really let rip        
then spin her round quick        
and fuck the shit          
out of all that tidy tiramisu        
smiling while I fart    
one last time at least.