Train In Vain
"You..You and your unnatural perversions.
"A bus? Why not? Just remember the rubber Wellington boots and the umbrella."
I'm dating the only man who can convincingly seat me in his lap and ride the whole way from Boston to New York without ever letting on that his cock is burried about a foot up my soft, hot hole.
Sometimes, we're fortunate; an empty car. Pants are discarded over seats, cocks are swallowed in mid-air, held parallel, rampant. I may be able to qualify as a gymnast in the next Olympics thanks to you.
You're a freak for motion, movement, and speed. Bending over in an airplane lavatory without nearly beheading yourself is no problem for you.
Our vacations are planned around your fondest hopes of nailing me in every different exotic form of foreign transportation in existence. The only catch is the most obvious one; the danger of being caught. It just turns you one more.
I've been ridden in a horse and carriage, had my ass turned to mush on a dog sled, and fornicated in a taxi cab beneath the disapproving gaze of a cabby in Thailand. Your dream is to bounce me on your lap in a Rikshaw, hearing me moan and feeling the sticky emission of my cream against your fist.
Some would call you a demanding artist.
I call you the best lover I've ever had.