Afternoon tea on the white veranda,
Aside the fresh manicured rose garden,
She stirs her tea with a sterling silver spoon,
Then sips it with her right pinky curled.
Her back is straight and skirt below her knees,
Her feet flat on the floor in a lady like manner
With her stockings neatly lined up
Beneath her white dress with pink ruffles.
Her hair is gathered up in a bun in the back,
As she thinks of the proper thing to say.
Then she engages in a casual conversation.
With a half smile, she addresses Mr. Pettibone.
“Oh yes, Mr. Pettibone, the weather is
Quite pleasant today, but tomorrow’s
Forecast calls for a bit of rain. But for my
Rose garden I must say the roses need a drink.”
“Oh yes,” replied Mr. Pettibone, “Quite so.
Ha, ha, ha, ha, that is a very amusing story.”
So her tea party was quite successful today.
Midnight tea spiked with a bit of rum,
With her creamy calves atop the table,
Her sexy toes look like white chocolate,
Her red dress hiked above her silken thighs,
Her black satin panties soaked in perfume,
Open in the front to reveal pleasure’s gateway,
Her breasts heaving in her tiny black brassiere,
Her tongue licking her drawn up knees,
Her legs opening and saying, “Come hither.”
Her fingers gently stroking her hot thighs,
As she commands her Romeo to lie down with her.
Lady of the night and lady of the day,
You are but a lady and do what ladies may.
If you don’t lie down you “dream” your dreams.
For queens and whores all have fantasies it seems.
What lady doesn’t have any?