Morning Sex 11

The darkness of night fades into light over Guam's touristy strip, basking Tumon Bay in the early morning glow of the powerful tropical sun. High above the waves and beach in our hotel room, the breeze coming in through our lanai is the first hint of daybreak. Through the rustling curtains, the breeze allows the sun, but not the beachgoers, to peek into our room.

You remain sound asleep, but have made clear your wish and my goal. You are so sexy just sleeping there. My mind plays back the last 24 hours. The ecstasy when we made love the morning before. The day we spent snorkeling the bay. The colorful tropical fish we saw. The dinner we enjoyed. The sunset walk on the beach. The aching muscles when we got back to our room. The massages we traded. The bath we shared together. The pillow talk. Then sleep.

But 24 hours is enough time for us to abstain. This vacation has been so relaxing, and this vacation's lovemaking has been truly phenomenal. But we have a mission with our lovemaking this time. Softly, I reach for the bottle of fertility-friendly lube from the nightstand.

Quietly, I put some lube on my fingers. And then my other fingers. Carefully, I start to work my member back to full strength, using firm but gentle strokes so as not to wake you up. My other hand warms the lube soon to be used on your beautiful body. You've always been so cute at communicating little things, like your dislike of cold lube.

My flesh grows solid, a vein or two visible, with the little crook to the left and the bump or two on the left side. You don't mind these, and they have no effect on our lovemaking, but they remind you that I am, after all, a human being with human physical imperfections. And despite my imperfections, you love me so much for the man that I am, which makes me the luckiest guy in the world.

Sensing now is the time, I make my move on you. Kisses begin at your forehead and rain down off to the side, with a little nibble of your ear, before trailing down that spot on your neck that sends shivers down your spine. You elicit a moan, the first sign that I have awoken my lover. I pull off the covers from your body, revealing your torso. Gently, I continue the trail of kisses across your chest, and around your beautiful breasts, circling but not directly attacking your nipples, which with the warmth of the blanket removed, have already started to harden. And then I move my other hand in, covered in warmed lube, to the epicenter of your womanhood and of our pleasure.

I start with my normal circles around your hot spot, eliciting more moans. I move my head back up to your beautiful face, locking our lips in a kissing embrace as my hand continues its work on your vulva. You moan again, reaching your hand out until you find my cock.

"Ooh hey you" are the first clear words pouted from your mouth this morning, when you realize just how ready my manhood is for you. Already hard, already wet, definitely in need. Instinctively, you move your hand back and forth, then pull back my foreskin to uncover the head with its many nerve endings, the greatest transmitters of pleasure on my body.

"Good morning beautiful," are my first words back.

We continue our mutual strokes for another few minutes. If that means five minutes, ten minutes, twenty, who cares. We're on vacation and this is our most important task of our lives right now. Your moans slowly but steadily get more frequent. My soft grunts get a little more frequent too. We bring each other to higher levels of pleasure with every stroke. When I feel you beginning to tense up, I make yet another move. Into your soft folds my index finger goes, seeking out the spot on the front wall of your love canal that offers yet a whole new avenue of pleasure. After a few seconds of feeling around, I find your G spot. My middle finger joins the action, and soon I feel your vaginal muscles clamp down.

Wiggling my fingers forward, feeling you squeeze me, I see your entire body begin to tense up. Your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your body starts that shaking, that rhythmic quivering motion. I am locked onto you by one of your arms. Quietly, I hear you whisper "oh shit," and you slip into your own personal bliss for the next few moments. Loud, uncontrolled sounds follow. "AH!" "OH!" The hotel guests staying on the other side of the wall in the next room may not need to know what you're trying to say, but they can figure it out, and I already know.

As you come down from your orgasmic bliss, I pull my fingers out. Where once there was clear lube, I now see a white, egg-whitey substance. I pull my fingers up and show you.

"Honey, you know what this means, right?"

Without any regard for my slimy hand, you grab me close and hold me tight. "Fuck me baby," you whisper in my ear.

"We'll get to that" I say in my restrained, soft voice.

The next few minutes I continue to play with you using my fingers. You've always been one of those ladies that countless articles in Cosmo have defined as the woman who can have multiple orgasms. You come a second time, then a third. Just as I am about to launch you into bliss a fourth time, you decide to take control. Before I even know what's going on, you pin me down to the bed, and lower your warm, wet pussy onto my still-throbbing cock.

"I said fuck me." You remind me.

In. Out. In. Out. The primal urge that has been a part of pretty much every man since the beginning of time takes over. You may be on top of me, but you haven't completely smothered me. I find enough vertical wiggle room in our motions start to thrusting in and out of you from below. I pick up my pace. You cum again. I take this level of arousal as high time to start playing with your nipples. So often so sensitive, by the fourth orgasm they are begging for masculine attention. My thumb circles one, my tongue the other. You cum yet again.

Deep within me, I can feel myself getting close. The pleasures of the flesh so far are starting to kick in that overdrive. That overdrive, if not stopped or slowed, within seconds will bring me to the point of no return, of ejaculatory inevitability, that point that hundreds of purported cures for premature ejaculation try to teach men to identify. But this point, while inevitable, is not premature. You and I both know how we want this morning to end, but I want to savor the moment, so I slow.

Wanting to be in control for my moment, for our moment, I roll you over on the king sized bed, so that I am on top of you, staring into your pretty eyes.

"Baby, I'm so fucking hot for you. And you know we're right at that point this month. If we're lucky, our lives will change forever with what we're about to do, and I want you to feel my love through it." I lower my lips to yours for a soft kiss, understating the moment.

Slowly, I resume my thrusting. Within seconds, I'm back where I was. You're back where you were. The overdrive of pleasure in full effect. Slowly but deliberately I bring myself to the point of no return, and with firm thrusts pleasure past it. As my body begins its involuntary contractions, my thrusts speed up. You're back at the brink yourself. And with your mind, your clit, your entire womanhood wrapped up in this moment, you yourself are in overdrive as well. My eyes, which were locked on yours, roll into the back of my head. My back arches above you, and a throaty, masculine "UGH" escapes my mouth. Your body reacts to my increased thrusts and you yourself are thrown back into another climax. A flash later, and I start to spill my seed. The first spurts launch from my body, deep within you. There's no barrier, no hormonal interference, no pulling out, no turning back. Your body, just coming off of its crest of the waves of orgasm, launches into yet another wave of pleasure on top of a strong climax. But I am only partially aware. My body trembles for you, my mind locked up in that primal state of pleasure all men get to feel by hand or by a lover's help, but only I get to feel with you.

This morning has been no quick jerking session, and my volume reflects that. It takes eight or nine spurts, but my body eventually returns to Earth. As I regain my ability to think, I kiss you. And yet, you don't seem fully back in consciousness either. Your face is locked in that grimace I've seen through countless climaxes of yours in the past. Your pussy continues to clamp on my cock, which has stopped its primal thrusting is just starting to deflate. Clenching me so tight it's as if I were still hard. But this time, you don't respond to my kisses.

"Honey bun?"

"Hey you?"

Getting worried, I say a little louder.

"HONEY BUN?!"

Your grimace starts to break, you start panting, and after a few breaths you start to moan again.

"Holy fuck!"

I respond "You okay hun?"

"That was the most fucking amazing thing I have ever felt, I think I almost blacked out."

For the next few seconds we catch our breath. You roll over, and lie on top of the rolled up covers, raising your cute butt in the air.

For the next five or ten minutes, we lie still in each others' arms. Finally, after the sleepy effects of a man's post-coital state wear off, I coax you to get up and go to the bathroom, not wanting you to have to battle a UTI on the long flight home in a few days.

An hour or two later, showered, dressed, rested and ready, we go out for brunch, and a walk down to the beach where we see countless families playing, swimming in the water. Meanwhile, deep within your beautiful body, my swimmers find their mark, turning our morning of passion into the start of our own family. The miracle of life occurring within you will bring us to the next stage of our love, but we don't know that yet.

All I know is that we've got all too few days left of this vacation, and I can't wait for our next chance to make love.