Sex on Fire

Sex on Fire by Kings of Leon is playing as he comes on my chest. The sperm is lukewarm and he’s rubbing it into my skin, trying to draw out that final wave of pleasure. My chest hairs get stuck inside his cock as it closes up. He says he likes this song and takes it back to the start, turning it up. I lie there listening to it, watching him smoke a cigarette and stare out the window. He lives next to a quarry and there’s nothing around for miles. The song makes me think of liquid sex. Mercurial forms running together. I look down at my genitals, shriveling up into the patch of pubic hair I forgot to trim. He asks me if I want to stay around and watch a DVD. He got Clone Wars on bootleg. I tell him I need to get back to work. He notices me lying there, the sheen of his sperm still covering my chest. Sorry, he says, and tosses me a wet rag. He smokes another cigarette and I get dressed. When we first started meeting up we talked about him fucking me. But we never tried it. Now we just know to stay on the outside of each other. As I walk to the door, the song still playing from his room, I lean in and kiss his lips. Weird, he says, and my heart doesn’t miss. I drive home anxious to wash the dog smell of the wet rag from my skin.