Pleasures of the morning

Pleasures of the morning

How is it warmer now
Beneath these sheets
Than hours ago
With passionate heat?
Now her cheek

Seethes like a furnace
My finger, tips burn
To wake her in earnest,
But can't or shan't
Won't do it just now.

After pleasure comes leisure,
Relaxing arched brows.
In this bed where we slept
She clenched sheets in fists,
Long bodies mixed. Sex fixed

The sweet breaches we made.
Sweat pooled at the base of her back,
her head tilted, lips parted
We rocked each other
With mounting moans, precious groans

Whispered names
and fantasy wishes fulfilled.
Massaging whole bodies
Human lengths intertwined.
Her hair in my hands,

Pulled taught
arched
strained
winced eyes blurring in pleasure and pain.
Legs spread, grinding cries.

Pulsing, pumping
Shuddering breathless thanks,
Minds lost in that land of elegant blanks.
And now, how that clock
Has devoured those moments.

Vague airy remnants
Stolen into cool morning spaces
Through succubus vents.
I marvel to see her.
After it all, her rouged cheeks look innocent.

Getting up, carefully parting the sheets.
Briefly uncover a naked breast,
sexy thigh,
those hips that pressed back against mine...
Make breakfast, hash browns,

Golden brown, cook without making a sound,
Get back before she awakes.
Too late.
Big sexy eyes, open again,
She looks for something quietly,

It was so wonderfully there when we went to sleep.
What is gone tonight we will rebuild.
Will be recreated.
On our empty outer canvas
Of rippling of silken white sheets.
She fists and moans in pleasure.