If his walls could speak,
Would they talk about us
And the things that we’ve done,
As they've silently stood witnessing?
Would they tell of the time
He anxiously turned me to face them,
Impatiently shoving me against them,
As soon as I stepped through his door,
His left hand holding my neck firmly,
While his right was dropping my defenses to my ankles,
His fingers exploring my realms,
Soaking in my delight?
Would they express how he made me squirm,
And burn with an uncontrollable desire,
Moaning to feel him deep inside,
As my swelling lips were begging to be hushed?
Would they disclose how he forced me to the floor,
Down on my hands and knees,
Making me whimper and writhe,
Like a dog, begging to be played with some more,
And of how I pleaded with him,
To drive himself in from behind,
As they stood without a sound,
Watching us imitate two animals in a mating ritual?
Would they voice how he raised me from the ground,
Lifting me to face him, my thighs straddling his waist,
Him slipping inside, as my legs were wrapped around,
Inviting me to thrust and ride, as he carried me to his dark bedroom,
Leaving them never to know what comes next?
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