You call me at 2AM
I answer-.
Drunk & anticipating,
Eager to hear your voice
And when you talk, I sense the playfulness
that leads to requests to have my shirt taken off and tell you if I’m wearing any underwear
-role playing for the promiscuous
Libidinous boys
Who constantly crave sex
But sometimes settle for dirty conversations & phone sex

My eyes shut to the sound of your heavy breathing
You heave
And I pant to
The sound of your rapid jerking
You tell me you’re hard now
As I hastily undo my pants.
The vodka gets me talking- profanities I wouldn’t dare speak of without the influence of which
Dreaming only of afternoons in your dimly lit room
Dirty Sheets and the smell of ice and crushed coffee beans
Fresh from the blender
I think of cigarettes and the taste of your lips

But in the last few minutes I try to detach myself from the emotions you bring with your voice
And focus only on the effect your moans have on me
I ask for your permission to come
No, beg
whimper and whisper in a tired voice
And at last, when you deem permissible
have my seed flow in every possible direction
My orgasm, delayed
To suit your convenience

You come in less than a minute after I do
But always after me
And I wish you’d stay for a while and talk about the day- your day with me
But the line goes dead soon after
And I ponder over the things I’d said, that would have better remain unsaid
But In the heat of the moment
When lust takes over the inhibition

That keeps me from confessing my vulnerability and heartfelt emotions
Hoping you would think of me when you’re making love to him
Or to her, when you felt like it
And my thirst for you would have to suffice
With what little I shall get
When you call me at 2am next
And I’d get drunk on your voice