I wake you up every single morning like this: I slide down
between your legs, I lift them and I feast on your sex.
In the beginning you are usually dry and closed, but your body reacts quickly. As you wake up, your lips open and juices begin pouring out from
I wait for that moment. It’s the disclosure of my treasure,
it’s the proof I still excite you even after all these years together.
Then I start kissing your mound and the only thing I can
think about is me, shoving my tongue inside you, tasting the sweet nectar
you’re preparing for me. But I resist.
I resist until you grab your own ankles and pull them up,
until you push your sex on my face, waiting to be pleased.
I gladly do it; after all, you are my love.
And my daily breakfast.