COFFEE AT THE WINDOW

(Inspired by the picture used here, by Julio Portella Cesar Medina.)  
 
She stood, framed in the morning light,  
Drinking coffee from a mug of white,  
Silhouetted against the wall,  
She looked majestically tall.  
Crowned by her light brushed, red-brown mane,  
Her eyes gazed out the window pane.  
Her left arm gathered shawl about  
Her front, her back stuck not too out,  
Protecting all her modesty  
Should passer by from outside see.  
   
I was still lying in the bed,  
In which we'd passed the night naked.  
When her face turned toward my face,  
Her countenance lit up the place  
With a smile, "Would you like one too?  
..The coffee I mean, I'll serve for you".  
I promptly laughed my Yes to her.  
"Wait for me, I'll be back Sir!  
Presume you like yours sweet and white?"  
"Yes please" I answered, with delight.  
   
She put down her cup, let down shawl,  
And left the room with a bared all.  
A kettle's pour, spoon's stir I heard  
As well as the dawn chorus bird.  
Then she walked in holding a tray,  
Two cups, biscuits on display.  
Of the latter we shared nibbles,  
I licked the crumbs off her nipples  
Between sips from respective mugs,  
Tongue teasing her protruding jugs.  
   
Soon she became re-excited,  
And wettened, made me invited  
To come back again to her core.  
The tray and mugs left on the floor  
While I pulled her back on the bed,  
And let her mount my pencil lead,  
Rewarding her with both breasts cupped,  
Raising moans as she downed and upped.  
My seed came out fast, milky white,  
At height of mutual delight.