The Creaky Door

There it was again, the door,
Creaking, like the wooden floor.
You’re tugging gently at my covers,
Away from the creaky door.

Softly pulling at my wear,
Alcohol breath upon the air.
Your rough hands upon my skin,
Handled without a hint of care.

Your breath becomes so dark, so deep,
You thought you found me in my sleep.
Pushing yourself inside of me,
As I moan, I feel so cheap.

You press your hands against my lips,
Straddling me, position your hips.
Thrusting your cock into my guts,
Steady rocking, and my mind slips.

There it is again, the bed,
Creaking loudly in my head.
I am hardening against my will,
Underneath you, oh, so spread.

You’re moaning loudly in my ear,
Your steady rhythm all I hear.
Fuck me, brother, make me cum,
Claim me as you draw me near!

Bring me now into your sin,
In secrecy, I let you in.
Take me now and make me yours!
Don’t see the goosebumps on my skin!

You’re panting hard, one final thrust,
You’re moaning loud, filled with lust.
You send your seed deep in my bowels,
You leave again, again you must.

And there it is again, the door,
As you’ve made it across the floor.
I moan in pleasure of your sin,
As you close that creaking door.

The murmurs of our sins now show,
Never must you see or know,
Just how hard you make me cum,
Never, ever, must you know.