She was relaxing on her coach in a white silk sleeveless blouse and knee-length black silk pants with her head resting on a small pillow.
"Please, I want to read that your poetry book," I said to her.
"Ohoooh. It is at the bottom of the box," she said, making a face with the grimace of her reluctance to rise up and get me the anthology.
"Please," I said lovingly as I stood over her.
"What will you give me if I bring it?" She asked.
"I will give you anything you ask for," I promised.
The montage of the gifts I was keeping for Queen crossed my mind.
The scented red rose flower, embroidered face towel, stockings, sleep mask, all weather jacket, etc.
I was wondering what she would ask for.
"Love," she said with a smile.
I gazed at her as she looked up at me.
"I want you to love me," she said.
I looked at her beautiful face.
Imagine a combination of the best features of Halle Berry and Tyra Banks. She looked more beautiful than both of them.
Her her long brown hair glowing from the crown of her oval head to her slender shoulders.
She was looking more beautiful and wonderful than the Nigerian Darego Agbani, the former Miss World.
I bent over her and planted my brown lips on her succulent brown lips and it was as if our lips fused as we kissed passionately.
Then she rose happily from her coach and smiled.
Gosh! If only you have seen the perfect African beauty.
She was standing tall and her golden brown skin made her to shine in the natural light of the sunrays in the patio.
I admired her from her head to her feet. She had a perfect backside and I could see that she had perky breasts.
She was going to get me the book of poems.
Oh, lovely Muse of my poetry.
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