Sixteen years old and I loved her body with mine.
We were quiet lovers, but only from necessity.
Her parents just upstairs,
Thank goodness for wooden steps!
We rocked slowly back and forth
With lips locked to keep from screaming out.
Once we rode for an hour in the back seat
Just two feet away from her mother driving,
All the while her hand down my pants, then her mouth.
We had the house to ourselves for a few hours once,
It was different on a bed, rather than the floor:
The headboard broke, and I came just as her parents drove up.
Sixteen years old, quiet from necessity.