she was nineteen.
I was five years younger.
she had a strange craving,
of lust and blunder.
I would skip class,
to kiss *** so she may service,
a nervous ******.

In this spacious place of a stair case,
her moans of satisfaction echoed through the steps,
and filled the cracks in the wall.
windows were practically the walls.
she famously said,
"lets give 'em a show"
how did I know she was such a creep?
a golden haired beauty that smelled like the perfume department at Macy's.
her lips stained with lipstick.
lips.
I would kiss.
bite.
lick.
Interruption.
her automotive me, slowed to an abrupt stop,
only to be silenced by an uninvited guest,
abruptly opening the door downstairs,
and luckily kept,
the rhythm in his step as downward he trekked.

"lay on the floor" she told me.
"yes master" I say.

that was the day that I will always remember.
that was the day I met abby.