She Calls up to Talk,  and Comes over at 3:29 AM

Being in love
with someone
who sees you
as merely a friend
can be quite
disconcerting
especially when
you can't look her
right in the eye
without fainting,
without wanting,
without pushing her back
and taking her
into your all
and you're in her.

I can't just come out
and say how much I want
that cunt in my mouth;
I'm looking right at you
and my hard on is hurting.

I'm trying my best
not to be inappropriate
asking you chit chat
and thinking
if only she'd fuck me,
I'd take her
bend her over a bed
ram at her
and tea time her
into a frenzy.

But she tells me her story
and of all of her worries;
I would only be another statistic
and yet I can hardly stand not having her
and being all candidly hot and fantastic.

Sitting here talking
and wanting her
crawlingly
trapped and unraveled
behaving to listen
being all open
and needing her down
in my oven of wetware,
sweating each word.

I know that she sees it
and lets it go easy
while I'm screaming
to have her,

"Thanks for talking to me,
I really enjoyed it.
I hope we can,
oh God, again sometime."

runningturtle87