Shag Me at the Door

Advisory: This one is sexually explicit. Please don’t read it if that bothers you.

For F. W., whose encouraging comments have kept me motivated to write the new erotic series this week.

I hear the door open and rush toward it;

he’s coming home from the gym,

and I want to intercept him

before he makes it to the shower

so I can lick the salty sweat

off his just-pumped muscles,

so I arrest him with a hard-tongued kiss

and hands firmly planted on his hips

down inside the dampened fabric of his shorts,

and before he has a chance to argue,

I begin to like my way down his chest,

tonguing the juice off every hair

as I move one hand to his cock and squeeze

while a finger of the other moves toward

his hole, and the shorts slide off,

and soon we are both naked on the floor,

flip-fucking on the cold, hard tile of the entryway

until he’s all sweaty again and I am covered

in cum. And then we take a shower.

Copyright 2015

T. Allen Culpepper

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