The Hotel Room

Doesn't matter why or how?

Doesn't matter what led us here,

who we are, or what we do.

What matters is this moment,

in this blank hotel of dark paradise.

Checking in as 'the Smiths',

the elevator trundles to our floor

and spills us out with a feverish will,

leaving us behind with a knowing ping.

Thick carpet muffles our eager pace

as we head to room 6...8...9,

fumbling with the key card dance,

it clicks and consumes our desire.

Violent kisses,

clumsy hands.

Delicious moans,

stampeding hearts.

She arches her head back,

I smother her with my teeth,

and we fall on the bed as one...

a mess of nerves and feelings.

Shirt buttons ping off,

underwear is ripped away,

limbs twist and kick in all directions,

our sex now free of any constraints.

And for one brief single moment,

our eyes scream with anticipation,

giving our bodies a seconds reprise,

broken by this passionate lunge.

Flesh is explored like a new,

a smell of filth fills the room

and gives rise to senses never felt

and dreams never explored.

Its deep. It’s hard. It’s fast.

We taste each other.

We feast on each other.

We fuck each other.

It's electric. It’s fun. It’s ours.

We open each other.

We come on each other.

We hold each other...

with a purpose as if it were our last,

our selfish needs satisfied,

our dirty little secret kept,

our blue fantasy locked away...

until next time...in this hotel room.