We sit eyes locked
on the narrow bed.
These threadbare sheets
coarse to touch will
soon shroud us and
our wonders of the evening.
.
You bite your lip.
I feel the blood rush
through my body,
every heart beat like
and eternity of lustful
energy; I need to release.
.
"I need you to tell me something."
You offer. It sits between us in
the air of lust and confusion.
"go on" I offer, my words sultry
and seducing.
"Who else have you slept with?"
And I immediately fall down
my mental rabbit hole.
.
Should I tell you about Connor?
My first. Those lips caressing every
contour of my frame.
How they left raspy
messages on the inside of
my ear, soothing that burning pain.
.
How about Michael?
That older man who drove
me to that wood.
We made twisted images
in the back seat of his car;
I can still feel the leather of
those brown seats.
.
The twins, Logan and Harry.
How I felt like
I was in a house of mirrors.
Constantly flitting
between one and the other
in passionate bouts of lust.
The day I experience both ends of the stick.
.
How about Matthew.
That Irish sex god
whose lustful tones dug into
me as much as his fingernails did.
Those scars on my
hip bones from where he
grabbed just too hard.
.
How about Thomas
the pilot who took me to
inconceivable heights.
Kieran the sailor
who took me on high sees.
The soldier, Ryan,
who help me like a captive.
Or how about someone else?
.
"No-one" I whisper.
Your chest heaves as
you buy into my lie.
You move slowly towards me,
you're smiling.
I think one final thought
before kissing you;
why is it better to
be considered a virgin,
than a slut?
.
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