I want you again and again. I'm standing in my room thinking of your hard soft buttonettes, your brilliant smoothness, your inexorable somethingness.

I am thinking about you. I want you, and I only make you up, when I want to be on all fours.

You take me for granted, you forget about me and then slowly and once again you give me your throbbing member - so empty and so fully full simultaneously.

It Throbbing; remembering. down to who you are and how far you can arch your back.

I'm whining over your great protrusion again.

Now, I can see my nails through my sunglasses, my long fingers holding my ankles holding your tower.

“Come.  Give me a kiss," you say.

I see your pants sticking to your crotch, your tender mountain which takes the shape of an escarpment when I fall down into the valley.

“I want you," you say.

And I say, I say, oh yes baby, yes, that's it, ravish me.

But you are still at work, and I am alone in my room waiting for you. I am a doorway, you see, waiting for you.

I love waiting for you to finish work and come and fuck me. Just come home from work and fuck me. Make me stay still.