Back in the hotel room

a perfect set of instructions

she begs to be undressed,

of course she is told to wait.

I reach for the playlist

play our favorite songs

that are going to set up a mood.

Heavy handed kisses,

I smear her once pretty lips,

she smiles deeply, while being taken

to that carpeted room.

The couch with the obvious couch

she watches with envy

I undo a couple of buttons and snaps.

She flinches, the last three buttons

bounce across the carpet floor.

I tell her to stand,

I swear I’ve never seen bigger eyes,

and from behind, she’s undressed,

she pushes back against my open palm.

The curve of the couch,

naturally holds her body in a way

feverishly supported, she begs in a way

using the words she knows

will get one reaction.

Aggressively, pulled upward and shifted

she’s in her favorite position

the couch finally gives away its secrets

we feel our pulses and collapse.

Given a new set of instructions to follow.

The room is too warm, we need air

we need the eyes upon us.

Sheer balcony curtains

are whipped open in one move,

she’s told to keep palms flat on the glass.

Strong hands on hips,

her shoulders flex and glisten

against a silhouetted city sky.

My free hand slides the glass door open

the cold air is a rush

the filthy sounds of the streets

she’s asked a set of certain questions

fuck does she answer…

There against the city

each of the hotel rooms

were memorialized by a different mood.

We finally collapsed

in that oversized tub,

feet entwined and dangling.

We promised this was now

our one and favorite place

forty floors up.

One Reply to “Hotel Room II”

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