"Damn baby, you feel so fucking good-" my voice is interrupted by the sound of your phone and I growl a little "don't even think about picking it up now."

But you ignore me and pick up the phone with a "Hi, baby." Your boyfriend. He always has to call at the best times. I'd rip his head off if he wasn't one of my best friends and bandmate. And I'm the one who's doing it wrong.

Our relationship started one night at the frat house. We were both pretty drunk, and you'd gotten into a fight with him. Call it revenge or whatever, but you seized the moment to come to bed with me. I did so well that our relationship became a constant. In the backseat of my car, on the drum kit after rehearsals, in the campus parking lot, at the drive-in movie theater...

You cover my mouth with your hand while you talk to him, selling him another excuse. This time you tell him you took advantage of the opportunity to go to mass, and that makes me burst out laughing. Is he stupid enough to believe that? Yes, surely a priest would look favorably on what we are doing.

But I've never liked you talking to him when you're with me, even though deep down I know it's to protect us both. No... I like playing with you too much to pass up this opportunity.

I slowly move back inside, watching you throw your head back and cover your mouth, trying to suppress one of those sounds I love so much. It makes me smile and continue the work I'd started. I know I'm going to be in trouble after this.