The sweat drips off the brow
and into the mouth of the one below.
Sweet, but salty, it tickles her tongue.
Pumping hearts beat together
and pulsating special places ignite with
heat and fire.
A romantic interlude it is not.
The music has stopped playing
and the last dance has been danced.
A wiping of his hand across
her left breast.
She likes her nipple sucked.
Rolling him over
she rests atop his face and
feels that marvelous tongue
inside her.
That's beter.
Her hands reach behind her
and she grabs him with her right,
her left rests at his knee.
A twist, and a tug should do it.
He pulls her hair and she
arc's her back.
Too bad mom and dad will
be home soon. The college girl
who plays baby-sitter
will have to leave.
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