The Kitchen Table

True it seems, my love, that we have ventured every space;
Every nook of every room has known our passionate embrace:
From brisk boudoir gymnastics to a firm bonk in the shower,
To shagging madly upon the stairs, stopping only every hour.

A rogering in the sitting room, whilst watching the nightly news,
Or a quickie behind the laundry door before our midday snooze.
Not even are the kids' rooms spared when out they head to play,
As soon as they're gone we're up in their beds, happily grinding away.

From friendly hallway humpings to wrestling on the basement floor,
Those pleasurable porks in the pantry, so often it seems like a chore.
Randy romps on the patio, or in closets it's been said,
When rough and tumble is what we seek, we'll use the garden shed.

Indeed it seems that every spot has endured our fiery lust,
Though fret not, my love, as it happens, there is one last place to thrust:
Upon the kitchen table there, is our final sacred site,
To share our love and pasta-bake throughout this raunchy night.

--

Sorry, the idea just popped into my head and I couldn't resist. (Sorry also for any language considered inappropriate and/or offensive; it's all in fun.)

Dinhi: Nice work and imagery.
BJ: Simply wonderful imagery, and beautifully delivered; I have much to learn.

Title: The Curious Elephant

Drekinn
___
"Let words be your palette."