Temperature is soaring, his hands are roaming,
her flesh is burning, his tongue is wandering.
her lust is heightening, his grip is tightening,
the sweat is pouring, his hands are groping.
His hair is soaking, her lips are moaning,
his thrust is throbbing, she's relentlessly groaning.

He falls upon her, presses onto her,
teeth sink into her when lips travel her.
She touches him gently, he kisses her sensually,
She holds him carefully, he fucks her senselessly:
He demands she screams his name,
(they fucking love this game...)

She pants and screams and shout his name
He swam in her eyes before he came...

Temperature is lowering, his hands are cowering,
her flesh is stinging, his tongue is licking;
her lust is subsiding, his grip was frightening,
the sweat is covering, and hands fall from touching
Our hair is soaking, our lips were moaning,
his love is hiding: nobody's groaning.

She wondered why he pictured another, out of curiosity.
And his honest reply cued inevitable animosity.

He lays on top of her, she strokes him softly,
he kisses her tenderly, and it feels quite heavenly.
Our noses are grazing, his eyes are fading,
she's slowly escaping; our passion is jaded.
His heart is crying 'cause he's relentlessly lying,
and the morning's not saving a friendship from dying.