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Description
That night with its cold air molecules and hot breath in the basement.  The alcohol, seeping out of our pores, blurs the lines on the ground and the line between right and wrong.  The idea, or the touchy subject, had been among our words on many occasions.  This time, we are all liquid confidence, free of inhibition or reservation.  My nerves are blazing and anxious as the first touch is had.  Your lips are dry as they wander my face, while strands of my hair tangle with your gasps in my ear.  I am frozen cold in anticipation, even though surrounded by the hot humidity beneath the covers.
My thin hipped, bony equator has not yet been crossed, as a moment of uncertainty passes through my brain;  “Will I regret this in the morning?”  Stop.  Think.  Breathe.  Onward.
There is no turning back; our movements are brash and impetuous.  We are drunk drivers on a lusty highway, but luck is on our side.  Between the two bodies, I am trying my best not to swerve or crash over the thrusting speed bumps.  I am turning and rearranging to spread the wealth, or to spread my legs.  You are heavy breathing and momentum in my insides.  You are new and ravenous as you speak; “I’m gonna cum.”  My skin is sweat-sticky as you collapse onto my back in a slow fit of lethargy.  Minutes pass; we step outside for a cigarette but I haven’t found my underwear yet.

Description
That night with its cold air molecules and hot breath in the basement.  The alcohol, seeping out of our pores, blurs the lines on the ground and the line between right and wrong.  The idea, or the touchy subject, had been among our words on many occasions.  This time, we are all liquid confidence, free of inhibition or reservation.  My nerves are blazing and anxious as the first touch is had.  Your lips are dry as they wander my face, while strands of my hair tangle with your gasps in my ear.  I am frozen cold in anticipation, even though surrounded by the hot humidity beneath the covers.
My thin hipped, bony equator has not yet been crossed, as a moment of uncertainty passes through my brain;  “Will I regret this in the morning?”  Stop.  Think.  Breathe.  Onward.
There is no turning back; our movements are brash and impetuous.  We are drunk drivers on a lusty highway, but luck is on our side.  Between the two bodies, I am trying my best not to swerve or crash over the thrusting speed bumps.  I am turning and rearranging to spread the wealth, or to spread my legs.  You are heavy breathing and momentum in my insides.  You are new and ravenous as you speak; “I’m gonna cum.”  My skin is sweat-sticky as you collapse onto my back in a slow fit of lethargy.  Minutes pass; we step outside for a cigarette but I haven’t found my underwear yet.