Sleepy Sunday morning

CONTENT NOTE: Erotic prose. Fiction. Sexual fantasy theme.

All I want on a sleepy Sunday morning, is to be wrapped and snuggled in your warmth, skin on skin velvety soft. I want the sheets to cocoon us as the rain pitter-patters against the windows, the aroma of freshly cut grass seeping through the open crack. You stir and squeeze me tighter, pulling my near naked frame, save for a sheer chemise, against your chest.

Your strong hand roams up my back, my leg wrapping around your hip, feeling your hardness press against my lower belly. Covering my collarbone in sleepy kisses, you then captures my lips with yours, slow, sensual, tongues slowly exploring as you roll me on to my back. We wind and dip, arch and caress, all lips and warmth as you effortlessly slide inside me.

There’s no rush, no end goal. Just enjoying each other in this sleepy, serene moment. Second by second, minute by minute, each lazy thrust heavenly. Pitter-patter April showers, morning light streaking through the curtains. Pitter-patter. Slow thrusts, heavy breath, low hushed moans in my ear has me hold you tighter in our hazy embrace. I caress the back of your head, running my fingers through your spiky hair. You arm is wrapped around my waist, my legs around your hips. I am yours and you are mine.

‘I need to come in you…’ you whisper, near begging. ‘Please let me come in you…’

I tell you that you can, I always do, but you love to hear me say it. You groan shaky, your body tensing as slow yet strong thrusts grow desperate. Our embrace tightens, craving one another as if we are dying of thirst and the other is our water. You stiffen, your quiet, sweet climax blissful to me.

A perfect way to start the morning.

Masturbation Monday

 

4 thoughts on “Sleepy Sunday morning

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