Famous

“I want to be famous,” she says.
Her fingers play over the top bottom of her blouse
Then the next
Opening fabric up to the world,
Her tits springing to life with
Shiny skin, and tight pink nipples
Ready for their moment.
“Do you think that's possible?”
She mutters it from the corner of her mouth
Before she tips forward,
Lips full and eyes so bright
Long, manicured fingers grabbing at his pants
And a coo slipping from her throat when she releases his cock.

She takes it into her hand,
Finds him grinning, asking
“How famous?”
He eyes the look on her face, her mouth
The way she eagerly drops down to her knees
Replacing hand with mouth and swallowing his hard shaft
To suck him as deep as she can.
He may think she's done this many a time before but
She’s thinking of that night so long ago,
All five of them around her, filling her up,
Fingers, tongues and cocks sampling, touching
Every inch of her flesh, outside and in,
Someone muttering, Oh, you're gonna be famous babe. Famous for this.

She groans now as she did then,
Groans for what she seeks—a little bit of him
But more what he can do for her.
She isn't even fazed when he drags her up by her arms,
Spins her around, pushes her flat on the desk
And pries down her pants
To find her ass round like her tits,
Her cunt wet like her mouth.
His fingers search inside for her star qualities
While she wriggles her ass and whispers, "Really, really famous."
When his cock sinks in, his grunts fills her head
And his thrusts align with the echo of her mind—
You're gonna be famous babe. Famous, famous, famous.