It starts with a text
Hey handsome, you wanna hang?
And I know exactly where this night is going.
No need for games, no need for slow burns,
this isn’t about forever, it’s about now,
about heat and sweat and the way her hips move
like a wild ocean wave ready to crash.
She’s ten years younger but just as reckless,
and I’m not old enough to care.

We meet at the bar, two drinks in, shooters next.
She laughs, head tilted back, hair spilling like whiskey.
The way she sways to the bassline,
hips like liquid, eyes like fire
I swear the whole **** room watches.
They want her.
But she’s here with me,
and she ******* knows it.
A beautifully crafted piece of sin in a silk dress,
long brown hair swinging like a whip,
eyes that will burn holes in your soul,
and a laugh that makes you want more,
she loves my expensive cologne

She leans in, inhales deep,
says, I love the way you smell.
And I know what she means
it’s not the cologne,
not the brand or the bottle,
but the way the night sticks to me,
the way desire leaves its mark,
the way she’ll catch it on the pillow tomorrow
she knows she driving me wild as she comes close to breath me in deeper and deeper,
Oh and how I love how she smells
like a beautifully scented candle
expensive, sophisticated
So dam ****

Dinner is seafood and teasing,
her tongue running over the fork like a promise.
Oysters are on the menu ,
you know they a natural afrodiziac,
Not like we need them.
We flirt like we haven’t been tangled in sheets before.
Like I haven’t already left bruises on her thighs,
owned every inch of her over and over,
its like thunder and lightning when we together, you know there will be a storm!
Everything getting blow away and soaked..excuse the pun.
besides it's not
like she hasn’t clawed down my back,
it's strange we like two wild personality that become one,
even though we live separate lives.
like we don’t already know
exactly where this night is heading.
But the build-up? Oh, that’s the foreplay.
The tension, the knowing
the anticipation is the first **** of the night.

Back at mine,
door barely closed before we’re devouring,
my hands under her dress,
her breath hot against my jaw,
she bites because she can,
because she knows I like it.
Clothes—forgotten, skin—slick,
the bed—just another battlefield.
She moves like a lioness,
hungry, wild, untamed.
I hold her in one arm like she weighs nothing,
she climbs me like a fever dream,
moans like a sin sung in the dark.
We **** like animals, like fire and gasoline,
like this night will never end.

Morning comes, tangled sheets and tangled limbs.
She stretches, smirks, straddles me one more time,
a slow, lazy encore to the symphony of last night.
Coffee, croissants, a shower that turns into another round.
She smells like sweat and perfume and something sweeter
freedom, maybe.
The babysitter calls, and we know what that means.
Time to part, time to slip back into our separate lives.
But there’s no sorrow, no longing.
We both know the game, and ****, do we play it well.

And when she texts again
You up for another round?
I grin, reply
Tell the babysitter not to wait up.
Because everyone needs a **** buddy,
but not everyone gets one this good.
until the next episode
life is life