A Quickie In The Kitchen Poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

A quickie in the kitchen
I’m quite a normal sort of person Ì do not steal and
only lie with passion. In the house, we lived in there
were two flats on the second floor, a lady rented a
room and we shared the kitchen with her. Yes, it was
not a place where the middle classes cared to live.
One day in the kitchen I was fifteen and kissed her
I put her face -down on the table lifted her left knee
on a chair pulled her pants down and in it went like
a knife in an over ripe melon I quickly ejaculated,
a geyser of semen ran down her legs she burped ale
grabbed a kitchen towel- her own – drying her legs
We did this every afternoon till my mother caught us
in the act and hell broke loose. I fled to the communal
bath-house which also had a swimming pool and stayed
until closing time. At home mother sat reading, she
looked up said I was disgusting. Five minutes longer she
said as to herself and with that woman!