Sunday Morning

 

Sunday Morning.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, naked, hoping nobody catches me walking past the window. In the silence of Sunday morning, I can hear his steady breathing and his occasional grunting, which amuses me to no end.

What do I do today? Loo visit, shower, breakfast… and then see what the day brings, I guess. I stand up from the bed and walk towards the door when I hear his voice penetrating the silence in the room.

“Not so fast.”

I turn around to see him grinning. He beckons me to him and I can already feel a shift in my plans. Instead of my long, hot shower, I’m apparently headed for a long, hot something else. I walked back towards him, chuckling at the look of wanton morning lust on his face.

“Come here.” he says, pulling me on to the bed and into his arms. He buries his face in my neck and sucks that little sensitive spot he loves so much.

“You didn’t think it was over, did you?”

“After last night, I was kinda hoping it was.”

My cunt is still sore and I am pretty sure my clit had died from exhaustion. A whole night of rough fucks, interspersed with talking and laughing and feeding each other, all whilst naked.

It was amazing.

“Never assume it’s over with me. Because it’s only just begun.”

“Do you mean our fucking adventures or our relationship?”

He falls silent. We hadn’t really talked about taking our relationship further, and I know it was a touchy subject for him.

“Like, make it serious?”

“Yeah. Oh, I’m sorry I brought it up. Spoiled all the fun.”

“No, no, definitely not. But you’re my best friend. I’ve known you for most of my life. Why should we ruin this friendship?”

“We’re not ruining anything. The way I see it, it’s going to be just like being friends. With fucking.”

“Well… I must say, I quite like the sound of that. But my last relationship…”

“I know. It’s not going to be like that. Not at all. I love you. As a friend and as a lover. Because I know that you’ll be kind, gentle and always the gentleman with me. But I also know that you’re a very dirty man in the bedroom.”

“Do you like that?” he asks, caressing my body with his long pianist fingers.

“I like being made love to. And you do that incredibly well.”

“Do you want me to do it again?”

I wriggle out of his arms and scoot to the edge of the bed. Sitting up, I sigh. “Not now, Dave.”

He places himself behind me, and I can feel his soft, warm skin against mine. He kisses my neck again, sucking that same spot until I can do nothing but moan. He wraps his arms around me and whispers in my ear.

“I’m a really bad person, Zoë. You don’t want to love me.”

“But I do. And you’re not bad. Not at all. God, that feels good.” I whimpered. His fingers had slid down my body and were caressing my wet slit.

“Do you want more?”

“No. No. N… yes, fuck yes.”

As he fingered me, my thoughts began to melt into one big happy puddle.

If every Sunday morning was going to be like this, I was in for one happy ride.

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1 Comment

  1. You do come up with some gems “thoughts began to melt into one big happy puddle” Lovely 🙂

    Reply

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