I wish he'd slow down... <br />and take his time whilst <br />adoring this body of mine <br />instead he's always in a rush... <br />but dare I even make a fuss... <br /> <br />I better not, I ponder so... <br />Or it will be 3 months or so... <br />till our bodies reunite.. <br />but I wish he wouldn't rush tonight... <br /> <br />Slow and sensual, is my thing <br />the phone is off so it can't ring, <br />and interupt my pleasure time, <br />then Hubbie says...'Racing at 9 ' <br /> <br />Through every kiss he studies the time <br />so he doesnt miss out on his 'Racing at 9 ' <br />before I know it, the act is done. <br />and I 'm left feeling somewhat numb... <br /> <br />I decide it's time to take <br />drastic measures if I'm to make, <br />sweet love for more than 15 minutes <br />I'll take the fuse out..that should do it... <br /> <br />Then when he rushes to the loo, <br />onward with my plan, <br />out pops the bloody fuse <br />that should fool my man. <br /> <br />Yes disappointed he was so <br />my plan had worked just fine... <br />but then he went and fell asleep... <br />leaving me to watch Racing at 9.<br /><br />Tracey TEE<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/racing-at-9/
