COFFY & CREME

COFFY & CREME

Thinking aloud where’d I place the coffee
Knew some had been purchased just the other day
“I’m here,” a voice demurely whispers
Turning around. . . my mouth drops to floor
Dressed in a black sheer chemise
Black FMPS adorning french-pedicured toes
Ready to genuflect and partake of my blessings
Letting my tongue sweep across my ‘tache and 'tee
Rolling her pierced tongue alongst those full glistening pink lips
Distracted, my mind wast thinking about her other pink phat lipps
Lasciviously longing to lick her from front to back & back to front
Chuckling, she caught me curling my long lizard
Shaking her finger, “Not just yet”
“Umm, you need some crème to go with this Coffy first!”
Climbing atop the breakfast bar. . .
Phewww, what a sweet ass view
No longer was she a tall drink of cocoa enriched chocolate milk
Screw that crazy Nestle’ Quik bunny
Wast no one but me having this luscious mocha’d hunnie
Slowly seductively spreading her thighs I always adore day in, day out
Slender frenched-manicured fingers trailing up her inner thighs
Needless to say. . . by now, sporting a boner through my suit’s trousers
Thinking of calling in sick for the day. . .
Fuck, this is well worth being docked 24 hours pay
Damn! Now where was I… oh yeah
Leaning back, her kitty now exposed. . .
Don’t know how much more of this I can take
Pulling back those tender wett lipps, clyt ripe and ready
Her fingers sliding up and down. . . to the left. . . to the right
Thank goodness for Mother Nature’s delectable digit’d dildos
Good googly moogly, fo sho’ she knows how to tease her man
Silent becomes nature’s morning songbird symphony
As if they were in cahoots with my cappucino’d vixen
Nothing but soft moans do I hear. . . her bountiful bosom rising up and down
Mesmerized, realizing not the drool dribblin’ unto my tie
Enthralled by dark chocolate digits dancing uponst her swollen clyt…
All I can do to fight the urge to just dive in head first
One. . . Two. . . Three. . . slides in. . . Ohhhh shytttt. . . Four!!!!
Biting my knuckles. . . MrThycke ready to bust loose his woolen prison
Tilting her head, hearing my groans. . . she continues
Standing up, pacing closer. . . my nose taking in her heady pucce perfume
Eyes locked, she purrs. . “Patience, my love, patience”
Aint’ this a bitch. . . I’m being held captive
Thinking back. . . yeah I deserve this. . . chalk up one for her
Bending over, catching her off guard with a rare devious talent
Slowly. . . Sucking. . . Salaciously. . . Slipping. . .
Tongue. . . Tackling. . . Toes. . . Tantalizingly. . . Tastee. . .
She caressing my freshly shaven dome, Murmuring “Not fair”
Ignoring her pleas to cease, run my hands alongst her sculpted calves
In betwixt abbreviated breaths, “I’m. . . Oh Gawd!!!”
Watching her bite her lip, fighting the building erotic eruption within
Losing not eye contact, sliding my serpentine monsta in & out
Turning the tables, I’m getting my Coffy & Crème if it kills me before I leave
Suddenly those taunt tawny thighs thwump’d down aboutst my neck
Her nails digging deep, trying to push-pull me simultaneously
As furiously as she seizes up, slowly her body her slumps
What a sensuous sight to behold. . .
Freshly churned pucce crème for lil’ ol’ me
To go with my morning cup of mocha Coffy
Don’t think Maxwell House ever intended this
When they penned the slogan of
“Good to the very last drop. . .”