As I held her in my arms

She was still warm

Her body misty

And her tresses, messy

We were just through with our passionate session 

In the dingy storeroom redolent of medicines

That was our safe passage 

From the clutter of hospital ambience

 

She was my patient

A regular gynaecologist check up with her husband 

Drifted into a passionate flair 

One look at her husband was enough to deduce

Who was dysfunctional in bed

The doctor/patient consultation soon fructified 

In my chambers or sometimes in the storeroom

She was a tigress 

Even my youthful virility couldn't match her prowess

That sultry noon when she slept in my arms

She was unusually hot

Somehow I could detect another beat

I flustered...

Wondering if I am wrong 

But I felt it again

So when I checked her once we were proper 

She was indeed pregnant 

And no rewards for guessing 

Who was the father!

©LR