AirBnB

It’s 6:37 A.M,
Smell of coffee,
Microwave beeping,
Oblivious to anyone else being here
I walk downstairs with no shirt on.
There you are, standing in beauty
Like the rare sight of an October sunset

You smile as you inhale the sweet aroma rising out of your cup.
Your waking yawn, no make up, my smelly breath and morning erection
I walk towards you, unashamed of the visible strength showing in my pants
You turn towards me, unaware of the visible tips pointing from your top
She said she teaches yoga.
I immediately thought jackpot, she must be flexible.
The one she goes home to must be a Huxtable.
Instructor by day, exotic dancer at night.
She belongs to another but I feel cheated.

I want to look at you without your shirt on
Just like your eyes wander down my chest
I want to do to you all the things you’re doing to this cup
My lips around your edges, my hand squeezing your hump
I want to ease those sweatpants off you, inhale your morning scent.
I want to know if being an exotic dancer makes you a grand master of talents.

We walk into her room, talking, getting to know each other
She tells me what it feels like dancing on another
Intentionally poking at my curiosity
All I could think of was pounding her on those covers
Intentionally stroking her soft kitty
She grabs her panties, grab a top as she walks into the shower
I grab my cup and my lust as I walk out, aroused and sour.