Serenaded by jazz congesting this candlelit room,
checking myself for imperfections in this mirror.
As my perfume eloquently sizes up the background,
I wish he would hurry, getting here a bit quicker.
Applying MAC to my lips, I blow a kiss to myself,
leaving a trace of red on my glass reflection.
Wearing this dress befitting my beautiful curves,
not only do I want him to feel, but to see the sensation.
Candles ballroom dance to the sway of my silhouette,
as I patiently wait to indulge in his alluring essence.
He’s my local means to escape, my stress reliever,
oh how I long for our confidential late night sessions.
My midnight snack, he turns me on with his suits and ties,
but when the cufflinks come off, the scent of me goes on.
I call him Mr. After Hours, my nightcap, my guilty pleasure,
I have him all to myself, them I send him right home.
See, he belongs to me by night, my part-time lover,
during the day he has a woman that he claims to adore.
I don’t need his love I only lust for his affection,
a bond of convenience, that one could ever hope for.
He’s usually here by now, my body’s getting anxious,
losing control by the moment, I just may burst.
Starting without him, I shed down to my lingerie;
though he’s supposed to be here to undress me first.
Sweet surrender, appeasing my self-induced temptation,
caresses from my breasts to my raining inner thighs.
Soulful moans; movements to the beat of my own song,
deep breaths and toxic thoughts with his picture in mind.
Lusting for his poisonous kisses I inject on a daily,
licking my lips, it sends chills running down my spine.
I clinch these silk sheets wrapping myself in the times,
circular motions bears exhales and dilating eyes.
Reaching for my love enhancer kept on my nightstand,
pleasures from vibrations own my heart at this moment.
The temperature rises as my urges dig deeper
from my gentle touches; I’m in love with such atonement.
Climaxes are interrupted by several doorbell chimes,
reluctant to pause but eager for him to delight me more.
I lay there for a moment, teasing him for making me wait,
unclothed as he prefers me I glide towards the front door.
With one hand holding a glass of fine champagne,
I adjust my hair with the other before welcoming him in.
I’m greeted with an unpleasant surprise, a long-haired
woman fair-skinned, dressed to kill with Revolver in hand…
– Ms. Tioko