Pillow Talk

My first boyfriend

(Centuries ago now!)

Wanted to watch me masturbate

Keen to know my favourite technique,

Which I was only too happy to demonstrate;

(Surprising myself by the pleasure of an audience).

When I was finished

(And in those days I could hit myself in the eye),

I asked about his own preferred method,

Noticing the happy effect my performance had on his 

Equilibrium.

Laughing

He grabbed a pillow and

Rolled on top,

Fucking it the same way he happily

Fucked me,

Hips rolling like waves,

Butt rising and falling,

Rising again.

Laughter soon became hushed as

Intensity

Took over.

He looked me straight in the

Eye

Continuing to ride that happy pillow,

Daring me to look away,

Which I couldn't 

Even if he'd asked.

Rhythm increasing

Like waves rolling  

At high tide,

His ride became ferocious,

His breathing the roar of the surf,

Thrusting through the swell,

Past the point of returning to shore until his

Laughter 

Bursts out again breaking the spell,

And he slumps down hard on his flooded pillow,

Breathing as if he'd run a mile,

Eyes closed

Smiling contentedly,

Happy

As I spray his now still buttocks

With more of my own insistent flood.