Dark Bar. Dark red cocktail.
A glint in your eyes as you walk in, my lips part with in a smile.
All the lines running through my head erased as you slide up next to me in the booth, hand sliding up my back.
Exchanges about your day, my day, your nights, my nights. Your partner, my partner. Formalities. Old Friends. Renewed Virtual Lovers.
Sly fingers reach down to run up my thigh into my moisture. Sly hands brush over your already hard cock through the expensive fabric of your suit.
Heated, whispered rememberence of a night long ago, of burning desires, deep dark shared secrets and feverish fucking.
I remember how you taste, you breathed, I remember your darkest desires, as you kiss my ear gently. Nothing chaste about it.
I want to rip your cloths off right here, I whisper back, I want to crawl into your lap and fuck you every which way.
You smile, I giggle.
I love how rough you are with me. Remember that night?
Yes, oh god how can I forget?
All sense of pretence is dropped, our primal instinct is now for public display.
We leave the bar - two gentle, lover-like kisses.
You go south, I go north.
You still make me wet - I wrote in the morning
You still make me crazy - you wrote in the afternoon
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<a href="https://www.lushstories.com/stories/love-poems/three-drinks.aspx">Three Drinks</a>