I will be the first to admit I’m not a morning. I stay up late, I wake up late. That is unless there’s a sexy wake up call to motivate me of course… 

goodmorning

A cold morning light is sneaking it’s way past the curtains and I swear I can feel a draft following it. I don’t bother to check what the time is, it’s Sunday after all. Why should I get up? Then I feel the arm under me waken, pulling me closer to the warm body next to me. D likes to sleep in. Unlike me though, he also likes waking up and being active. I could stay in bed all day, but he has to wake up.

He also knows how to wake me up. It starts off as slow strokes, caresses on my shoulder from the arm cushioning me. Then he rolls over and we’re spooning, his other hand drifting to my stomach, starting it’s slow assault on my body. He buries his face into the back of my neck, snuggling into my hair. Sometimes he tells me how nice I smell, but this morning he doesn’t. He just snuggles and strokes.

I can feel him against me, his hardness pressing into the small of my back. I can feel it growing, pulsing almost into me. It’s so erotic. He starts kissing my neck, my shoulders, his hands ever wandering down. Caresses on my thigh, his hand sneaking inside, roaming upwards, retreating back. Then they’re cupping breasts, going under my vest and teasing the nipples. All the while I’m sighing and moaning ever so slightly. It feels so good.

I start to wiggle up against him, gently grinding my bottom against his manhood. He stays slow though. This is torturous but I love it. My hand sneaks round to touch him, but he quickly grabs it. Pining my both my hands in front of me with only one of his, he pushes me into a better position. Then with his other hand, he steers his cock in my begging pussy. One strong stroke and he’s filling me up, impossibly delicious.

He starts of with long, slow strokes. I’m sweating and moaning and grinding but he’s in control. He holds me down firmly and there’s nothing I can do but enjoy his sensuous assault of my senses. Every breath he breaths against my neck is like a spark that runs down my spine and straight to my clit. He pulls my hair, making my head arch back and I can see him out of the corner of my eye. He looks so intense, matched by his stronger, harder pounding.

By now I am almost screaming in ecstasy, my body roughly jilted with each thrust in. I push myself into him as far as possible, match his stride. We are like two animals, although he is silent except for the heavy breathing. Just as soon as I feel I can’t take it anymore, than I’m going to be pushed over the edge he growls into my ear and hits home. Although we have been lying on our sides we both collapse into each other a little, our sweat and breaths mingling.

All this time and we still haven’t taken off our pyjamas.