Sexual interludes plague the day;
He passes and gives the signal,
Then we disappear,
It’s weird you know,
I never saw myself as the closet lover type,
But when he holds me near
And caress my cheek,
I surrender to his being,
When lips touch, the earth moves,
Oh good God tell me why I’m here!
A broom poking into my back
And his foot in a bucket,
But it seems like paradise;
Oh yes, I’m just going to get coffee,
A sweet sip of him is just as good
And trust me a coffee cup
Could never give so much pleasure,
Nothing could have so much desire,
He massages my breast and raises my skirt,
We need to be quiet
But his touch makes me giggle in joy,
It’s sometimes fun to have him here,
For God knows I have coffee breaks
Three or four times per day!
©2007 – V. A. Coote