We rush things up skipping the foreplay
I obey all your commands, as you are the only one with words to say
Your legs arched up, move in a dramatic sway
You tell me to keep hitting it, because you like it this way

Telling me you are ready
I slide into you, making love to you steady
The beating on the zinc roof indicates the rain is quite heavy
And you whisper slowly into my ears, ‘that’s it baby’

The cold from the weather could not overcome the heat
From the *** we had, after moving to the dining seat
I should ask for your name, in case of the next time we meet
This shouldn't be a fling, rather it should be kept on repeat.