An Evening At His Home. Poem by Shannon Nicole

They first walk into the basement,
Seated next to one another.
Her legs crossed as she's seated neatly,
He's grabbing the remote to switch the channel.
Five minutes into CSI,
Which always seems to be on when she comes over,
He starts to tickle her or bite her shoulder.
Soon she is either leaning into him,
Or they're lying in each other's arms,
Just kissing the other's lips.
Soon they're biting gently,
And he's kissing and suckling his way to her chest.
He kisses her through her shirt,
And caresses her with his other hand.
His fingertips trace over her stomach, under her shirt,
It's funny because everytime she would look at him,
He plays the innocence card.
Finally his hand is over the cup of her bra,
He pulls back the cloth and takes her nipple into his mouth.
Licking gently,
Getting rougher to biting,
After she gets a few gasps in.
His left hand trailing down her stomach to the button of her pants,
As he's still sucking on her breast and failing to get her button undone,
She's giggling and gasping at his quick attempt.
But his lips capture her's,
And their tongues are having a war of their own.
Every time she lets out a giggle of his failed moment,
She thinks she may have heard a growl come deep from his throat.
Finally her button is undone and her zipper is loose,
His fingers have found her weakness.
A slick and sweet movement at a slightly steady pace,
He kisses her to silence any loud moans,
For his family is home and could come to see this scene at any moment.
So far, so good,
It's been only a half hour and someone's coming,
He zippers her pants and pulls her shirts down over the button and undone belt.
As she sits on his lap,
To hide what's already showing.
Too lazy to move because her body has been in sweet ecstacy,
The laundry room light is shut off and the footsteps are upstairs in the living room.
He presses his middle finger deep inside her,
And she's instantly ready right then and there.
He pushes her to the side of the couch,
In attempt with his left hand unbuttoning and loosing his zipper.
He pulls down her pants as they kiss and gasp.
He's ready, she's ready,
What's the hold up?
There's none,
He's in front of her,
At her entrance,
Wrapping her legs over his shoulder,
Entering her slowly so she can get used to him.
Then he's at it, once he hears her moans of excitement.
Minutes or hours,
She don't know because she's lost track.
Moving with his pace,
God it was heavenly,
But then they had to stop because he was afraid his family would hear.
Some days she'd wish they weren't home,
So that he could finish what he had started,
Instead of making her have to wait.