Hey, I think I like you.
So lets fuck,
surely you can understand,
the language of our twisting bodies.
The dull slapping of damp flesh,
lights glinting off sweat beads,
the wet applause of lust echoing
against stained walls.
The vibration of my empty moans
cover up the absence of pleasure,
despite your well practiced
mechanical motions.
You never noticed my blank eyes,
only your shallow breath in sync
with the drumming monotone rythym
of a rutting beast.
Thrusting to your final, predicatble encore,
you roll off and reply with a snore.
Nothing else but a dissapointed yawn,
as I turn over to reach for my clothes.
Hmmm....
I thought I liked you,
but now I know,
I should have stayed home and
done it myself.....
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