Poetry

Necessity is not the mother of invention. Horniness is.

Sex in the Back of an Abandoned Car: A poem

Sex poetry is fairly common on CL. Witness. Fortunately, this poem isn't horribly misogynistic and is actually kind of fun to read.

Zip! Flap. Coils creek on tires flat. 
Crooked neck tight- 
On ceiling. 
Crunch, plastic ceiling light. 
Zip! Gown. Slide down. Button slip. Tits, Big, 
Brown. 
White. Bikini Stripes. 
Grips on wrist. Sweaty leather, pulls, sticks. 
Hot breath. Dry lips. Hair wisps in kiss. 
Leg back, lift. Ass. Smack! 
Noone can see? No. Windows dirty/cracked. 
Back. 
Knee jerk. Grab. Jack. 
Knees on seats. 
Prying elbows. Dust billows. Tough nipples. 
Thigh in teeth. Gritty cheek. Tip. Clit. Dress rip. Tounge on shin. Cunt. Cock. 
Tight fit. Plugged in. Sin. Steaming skin. 
Eyes meet- lock. Grin. Drip. Sweat dripping. Fuck. Fucking. Panting. Retrictive pants. Over heating. Pleading- Don't Stop! 
Yelling. Pushing. Pushing. Coffee cup, trash, crushed in corner thrashing. 
Push. Fill. Re-fill. Push in. Gush. Blood rush. Rushing, gushing- final thrust- gushed. Faces flushed. 

Receding. Car creeks quieting. Sweat pooling. 

Soaking. Cooling. 

Deep Breathing. 

Is it bad that I kind of hope he finds someone?