whatiwas

there's sex on my hands and arms, sex on my tongue, creeping around the backs of my teeth, there's the phantom pressure of hips against mine, the caress of legs on either side of my waist, the numbness at the base of my cock, there's sex against the side of my cheek, there's the gentle swell of breast beneath my fingers and the snap of latex in my memories, there's sex on me, and i can't wash it out, and i don't know why i want to.