She threw one leg across my hip and said don’t get up yet,
Reached down between us where the morning had already set,
The table for the feast, she grabbed my cock half-hard and stroked,
Me back to full attention while the morning light provoked.
Every shadow on her face into a frame of wanting more,
I rolled her underneath me and she wrapped her legs, the core,
Of everything that keeps me coming back to this same bed,
She pulled me in and I was home, enough said.
Don’t get up yet, she has got me pinned beneath her thighs,
Don’t get up yet, forget the sunrise, forget the skies,
The only horizon I am interested in is the one between her legs,
Don’t get up yet, she is riding me to the dregs,
Of the morning and the last drop of whatever we have left,
Don’t get up yet, of sleep bereft.
I fucked her slow like honey dripping off a knife in summer heat,
She moaned my praises into the pillow, every beat,
Of our hips connecting was a metronome of lazy filth,
Don’t get up yet, we are building wealth.
The kind you spend in orgasms and the currency is time,
She came with her nails in my shoulders and her legs in climb,
Around my waist, I came inside her thirty seconds after,
Don’t get up yet, just the sound of morning laughter.