his hands running up the tense curve of my spine

and my teeth making scars of the skin on his neck

and all the while you were calling and wishing

i was underneath you as usual, you're harder to

get loose than i had anticipated and he brushes

my cheek with his lips and the music makes me

want to fuck right there under the strobe lights but

you're still in my head, underneath my tongue,

in the way my toothpaste tastes bitter and your

blankets are warm but i shake my curls back and

i know my eyes are glinting with lust: his hands

turning me on and if you were watching this

then you'd be hard and gentle as he makes me

smoothed over like the sheets on your bed after

you've made me happy because i'm with him

not you.