The alarm wakes her up; it's 6:45 Wednesday morning. Eric moans and Tanya Marie quickly turns it off so that it does not disturb her husband. She knows that the second buzzer on her two alarm clock radio will not go off for another twenty minutes. She sits up; the sheet falls from her shoulders and her supple breasts, revealing her dark areola and nipples. She and looks across the king sized bed at him hugging a pillow; his bare back is to her. She smiles and wonders what he's dreaming about.
She thinks about the sex they had the night before and smiles again. She reaches between her legs and gently rubs her mound, feeling the soft pubic hair. She is naked, along with her husband. They always sleep nude together. He does it because he feels uncomfortable wearing pajamas or any type of clothes to bed. She does it not only for her own enjoyment but also because she knows that Eric likes for her to go naked. He loves to see her breasts bounce and her ass cheeks wiggle as she saunters nude across a room. He also enjoys pinching her teats, groping her pussy and smacking her on her bare ass. She too takes pleasure going naked and when he twists her nipples, fondles her vagina and slaps her butt. It excites her and instills in her a desire to fuck.
She quietly gets out of bed and tiptoes across the room. Her robe is draped over a chair in front of her vanity dresser. Before putting it on Tanya looks at herself in the mirror. Her shiny black, curtain bangs hair reaches down almost to her shoulders. She shakes her head, causing her hair to fly out. She loves her hair; it accentuates her emerald eyes, thin black eyebrows and long eyelashes. Her nose is small and her cheeks are pink; the right one has an adorable, diminutive dimple. Her lips are as a pair of red rose petals lustrous with the morning dew.
She is proud of her fully tanned body, looking as though it is a sculpture made of pure gold. Its artist, having created the perfect female statue, and never wanting it to be copied, then broke the mold.
She cups her pliant, supple breasts with both hands and flicks her nipples with her thumbs. Her teats stand out like two candy kisses resting in the middle of two chocolate cookies on top of two golden gelatin orbs. The furrow between her tits resembles a fertile canyon waiting to be kissed and explored. It opens to a flat golden meadow surrounding a deep navel, a wishing well for lovers. There is a small brown birthmark near her left side, a handsbreath below her breast. It resembles a heart torn nearly in two; she calls it her broken heart for an older sister who died three months before she was born. The little girl was only three years old at the time of her death.
She smoothes her hand down her sides to her pubic mound. It supports a light crop of black hair; just enough for her sent to marinate her locks and allow her lips to be perceived, exactly what he likes. She massages her vagina lips with her fingers, sending a wave of euphoria through her naked body. She opens her clitoral hood and rubs her clitoris, launching another ripple of delight throughout her sensuous flesh.
She picks up her white bathrobe, checks the pocket for the list she typed up and printed yesterday evening before going to bed and turns to look at him still sleeping. Before putting on her dressing gown she glances over her left shoulder and looks in the mirror at her smooth, round ass. She rubs her left cheek where he smacked her Saturday night while making love. She smiles reminiscently. She knows that the fierce beating was a form of foreplay for the sex they had. She also knows that the more brutal the spanking, then the more intense the orgasm. His spanking her is what inspired her to type the list.
She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath and basks in the memories of their Saturday evening lovemaking. The pure joy he gives her when they fuck becomes evident on her face. The ecstasy that radiates out from her pussy when he performs cunnilingus on her fills her with endless delight. The fulfillment she receives when he shoots his ejaculate into her mouth and onto her face when she performs fellatio on him excites her eternally. She puts on her slippers and robe and goes into their daughter's bedroom to rouse her for school.
She gently shakes the little girl, reminding her that it is time to get up. She tells her that she has to get dressed for school. The six-year-old complains bitterly and covers her head. "Give me five more minutes, please mommy."
"I know you. If I give you another five minutes, you'll just ask for another five. Get up darling. Come on, I'll help you get dressed."
Carolyn does not move.
Tanya shakes her again but still no reaction except complaining from her daughter.
"Hey! I'm going to fix your favorite breakfast this morning."
That spurs the uncooperative child into action. She uncovers her head and rubs her eyes. She does not get up but she beams at her mother. "Are you going to put confection sugar or syrup on my toast?"
"You can have whichever one you want. Now, let's get you dressed."
Her daughter sits up, throwing off the sheet. As the precocious little schoolgirl climbs out of her bed she says, "I'm a big girl now mommy because I'm in the first grade. I can dress myself. You just go fix the French toast and put syrup on mine."
Tanya kisses her on the forehead and leaves for the kitchen.
When Carolyn comes into the kitchen Tanya sees that her brash, independent progeny has her white blouse buttoned crooked. She re-buttons the little girl up properly, straightens her plaid skirt and then puts a slice of French toast on her daughter's plate.
"You want milk or orange juice with your toast?" she asks.
"Milk . . . no orange juice. I had milk yesterday with my cereal," she answers her mother.
She pours her some fruit juice and begins fixing her and her husband's French toast, having already fixed her daughter's lunch, a small thermos of fruit drink, a luncheon meat sandwich with just a dash of mayonnaise, cut diagonally with the crust removed, three chocolate chip cookies and some seedless white grapes.
After getting dressed for work, Eric comes into the kitchen and he sees that Tanya is preparing his favorite breakfast. He blows her a kiss and then kisses his daughter on the top of her head. "How's my little Tinker Bell," he says, calling her by her favorite Disney character.
She loves for her father to call her Tinker Bell. "We have show and tell Friday, Daddy. Can I bring my Tinker Bell doll?"
"It's OK with me if it's OK with your mother."
"Thanks Daddy," she answers as she forks the last of her French toast into her mouth.
"Finish drinking your juice and go brush your teeth, honey. Your ride will be here any minute," her mother says to her as she flips the last two slices of French toast in the frying pan.
As his daughter leaves to brush her teeth, Tanya gets a paper towel and wipes some shaving cream from Eric's left earlobe; then drops it in the trashcan. She is happy that her husband is not like many men, sporting a beard or a mustache. She has never like kissing a guy who wasn't clean shaven. Even when she was in high school, she frequently turned down a date if the boy had hair on his face. Although, sometimes on Saturdays Eric doesn't shave; she doesn't let that bother her. But if they are going out later, if they are having friends over for dinner, if he's going shopping with her or if they're just planning an intimate evening together, she will make sure that he does shave. She puts his razor and shaving cream next to the tooth gel on the bathroom sink counter where he can see them while brushing his teeth.
