One morning I wake up next to you in your tiny bed, I don't know how we got any sleep at all. I guess we must have just been so exhausted after the night before...It's probably pretty late now because the sun's coming through the shades, but you're still asleep. At least, you seem to be. You have one of those innocent looks on your face that I love, though it's somewhat obscured since your head is still buried in a pillow. Your hair is sticking up everywhere so I run my fingers through it and brush the side of your face, careful not to wake you. I know you're such a heavy sleeper, though, that I'm not really concerned. I don't notice you crack open an eye as soon as my back is turned when I get up to stretch.
I want nothing more than to get back into bed with you. It's hard to leave the warm comfort of your blankets and your arms around me, but I want to make us breakfast. Although it's probably more like lunch at this point in the day. I'm wearing one of your t-shirts and nothing else. It's too big on me of course, but only just long enough to cover most of my bare ass. I start to look around for my underwear, (which could be just about anywhere after last night) before remembering that we're alone in the apartment today. I head to the kitchen, leaving the door ajar behind me.
I'm rattling through all the pots and pans in every cupboard looking for a good skillet to make eggs in, so I don't hear you get up. I can't find one, it's no chef's kitchen, so I give up and start making some toast instead. I'm focused, and again I don't hear as you leave the bedroom. You're also wearing just a t-shirt, although it's tented towards the bottom...Seems you woke up thinking about last night, just like I did. That's what I'm still thinking about now, as I go about making breakfast. I recall you throwing me onto the bed and immediately following, pressing your weight down on me so I could feel how hard you were. I can feel myself flush with wetness now, just thinking about it. I swallow hard, my mouth is probably just watering from the smell of food...
Then, I spot it: the skillet. We can have eggs after all! For whatever reason it's on the far corner of the counter, so I bend over and stretch for it...But just then I feel big hands grip onto my waist, startling me. Before I can even reach for the pan, I feel something just barely begin to enter me from behind and I gasp, inadvertently tightening around the tip of your erect penis. I know there's no way you put on a condom, or lube, or anything, but I'm so wet it's practically dripping. I don't know how you manage to hold back, just waiting there. I'm about to either tell you to just give it all to me or to go get protection, I haven't quite decided...When you suddenly make the choice for me and plunge in all the way, and I can't stop the scream from leaving my lips.
You moan a little too as you start fucking me against the counter, your grip tightening as I start to quiver. You fill me completely and more, it almost seems like you could break me as you put more and more of your strength into it, each stroke going deeper than the last. I can't even try to describe how it feels, my mind is completely blank. It's all I can do just to surrender to you and focus on your dick pounding into me. My breasts are pressed onto the cold countertop, which my head hits slightly with every thrust, but I couldn't care less. My legs get further and further apart before finally giving out, but you catch me and flip me over with ease.
