Wet windows


1. We used a palm tree and moon outside the window above the bath as a clock. And even though we were under water, I could still feel how wet she was. Our nipple piercings met. She laughed and tugged at my hair. I traced the curves from her ankle to earlobe.  It was then 3am and we ended up at the bowls club green.

I tried to slip my hand into her back pocket. But she didn’t have one. So it looked like I was just touching her butt.

2. The passion pop outweighed the amount of spiders as we christened the back shed and bathroom. One hand held onto the plastic excuse for a window and the other on the roll bar of my soft-top convertible.Legs spread, moaning head back. Repetitively she thrust herself onto my three wet fingers.

3. At the start I felt she had curated the come fuck me eyes. Talking in third person as we rode down school street hill, my bike was red and her hands were cupping my boobs.  All clothes were left wet on the front porch outside my bedroom window.We stumbled inside taking full advantage of the mirror conveniently opposite the bed.

4. We always ashed our cigarettes out the window above my bed. Especially when she was on top. They would sit in the ashtray on hold. While both of her hands were busy pressing firmly against the wall.Mine were on her lower back and thigh, slowly guiding her onto my tongue. Afterwards she would just lie there and watch me get ready for work in silence.And would be in the same position when I returned home. She, being mysteriously weird yet always wet. Ready again for this routine we had subconsciously constructed

5. She apologized for being so wet and as it was the first time we both couldn’t stop smiling and squirming with pleasure. And oh she was loud. We couldn’t risk getting caught. So I drove back from hers high as hell with my wet fingers gripping the steering wheel. Out of my left window was a large yellow lifeline building.