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. . .”

THE TASTE OF A WOMAN

THE TASTE OF A WOMAN

He gazes. . . She standing there

Fresh out the shower she be

Couldn’t help but admire

Long been his adoration

Not one to reveal feelings

In the dark, kinky thoughts been kept

Fearing her judgement. . . but why!!

We both love cat and mouse play

The secret - domination

Yearned for in separate ways

She – via emotional

He – via the physical

Seeking other’s breaking point

Hmm, who would have winning hand

His head cocked askance, grinning

She utters nary a word

Just searching his face for clues

Say something, say anything!

How would he reveal to her,

Let alone voice what he feels

Better to voice with actions

Devil may care attitude

Walks past her nonchalantly

Hears a not so subtle “HMMPHH!!”

Turning around, what a scowl

Look of murder in her eyes

Meeting her incensed pouting

Steps in, gently grasps her hand

Soul piercing gazes exchanged

Signaling she’s at his whim

Empowered by her weakness

Knowing she could not resist

Tongue play uponst her fingers

Neglecting nary a spot

Kisses her palms, takes his time

 His tongue trails along her nails

Light tender slow caresses

Undulating side to side

Sliding alongst her soft flesh

Sensation most intriguing

Her eyes. . . ‘What are you doing’

His dart back, ‘Sshhhh, say nothing’

With their eyes locked steadfastly

Brings gingerly to his mouth

Her French-manicured fingers

Allowing her to feel the heat

Of his lips she hast long yearned

Tries to pull back from him. . . yet

Resistance proves futile

 Placing her pinkie inside 

His oral cavern of lust
The warmth inconceivable
The seductive soft raking
Of his teeth so damned heady
And those slow licks just too much
Straight up erotic torture!!

Her ring finger, his next prey
Long tongueing strokes laid down
Swirling, twirling round and round
Losing her concentration
Mustn’t give in . . . think gurl, think
Lets towel drop, distracting him
Steps back, giving him full view

Blessed with curves for dayz
Deep mocha areolas
Light tuft’d vulvic valley
Plot afoot to sway his stead
Leans back, spreading pucce lipps
Her middle finger she dipps
Then in waiting mouth she slipps

Pressing real tight to his chest
Partakes of capricious dare
Unfurling his oral beast
Sucks honeyed fingers. . . Now there!
Hmm, slight hint of pineapple
Teasing, have you more to share
Smirking - touching tongue to nose

Misses no beat, turns up heat
Picks up where last he left off
Stroking nimbly her wrist whilst
Kissing her thumb and index
Such delectable morsels
Licking them up and down

Like Good Humor Creamsicle

Emboldened, he sucks harder
Eyes closed, caught up in rapture
Soon finds her begging, cooing
Gasping, Struggling with unique
Sensations unknownst ‘til now
Tell-tale signs she’s succumbing
To this tantric tongue'd torture

Exhausted, prone on her back
Wracked by intense orgasms
Quivering, breathing shallow
These titillating techniques
She finds herself pondering
Fingers just orally fucked
Speaking in Tongues. . . Redefined