Saturday Morning

The warmth of the bed engulfed their two bodies, intertwined, blurring the lines of where he ends and she begins. Rising from the depths of sleep and falling from the heights of dreams, he stirs to consciousness. The blanket, shielding the pair from the cool winter morning, is heavy and comforting. Rain splatters on the window after it's skydive from the heavens.

As he realizes where he is, both in time and place, relief and relaxation flow over him. It's Saturday, it's morning, it's not necessary to tear himself from her, not yet. No need to plunge his feet into the icy air that seems to emit from the seemingly frozen hard wood floor. No need to soak his hands and face with scalding hot water to rip the stubble from his face with a lethal blade. No need to choke himself with a silk noose to join the herd of steel and rubber to the ivory towers in the distance.

Squeezing her to him, she is soft and supple. Her cold feet trapped under his are unique as heat permeates from her body. The warm, soft skin of her thighs flows behind his hand like the wake of a ship as it sails north along her beautiful legs. The round bulges of her ass cheeks are pressed firmly to him. As he takes stock, he becomes aware of the pressure of her against him, he rises hard and firm, but confined. The pressure is almost unbearable.

Almost. After caressing and squeezing her behind, he allows his fingers to explore her tummy. While not taught and firm, it is smooth and familiar. Under a comforting layer of softness, her muscles are perfectly apparent, while not overly abundant. The steel stud that pierces her belly button brings a smile to his face. In making this grin, his chin scratches like sandpaper on the delicate skin of her shoulder.

Playing down between her legs with his fingers, like playing a piano, he finds what he seeks. Peeping, prying fingers work their way into her steamy, slippery wetness. She stirs, but only to turn and kiss his cheek before slipping back to rest.

His lust growing, he rubs himself against the smooth skin of her backside. The crevice between her cheeks provides just enough engulfment to tease him. He begins stroking himself in and out, longing to force his way between her thighs. He longs to plunge something, other than his now slick fingers, into her.

Fluid is oozing from him now, coating her buttocks as he begins rigorously scratching the itch that is driving him insane. Running his fingers along her arms, she still does not stir. She is still in a haze. Warm, comfortable, in the nether region between being asleep and being awake. The warmth of him behind her, his hard chest pressed against her back, and the increasingly interruptive tempo of his thrusting. She is torn between action and inaction, but the teasing brings a smile to her face so she remains inert.

Attempting to taunt her awake, to action, he tickles her under arm and thinks her smile is from this playfulness. The feel of his hardness against her behind is turning him into an animal. He is going mad with need for her. The inviting feel of her breasts is doing nothing to relieve this, only feeding his want for her like an appetizer before dinner.

Kissing her neck, he runs his fingers to her hair as fast as he can. Tangling himself in her curls, the soft, fruity smell of her sexy long hair makes him lick his lips. Pulling the strands from her ears, he nips and sucks on her ear lobe.

Her left ear in his mouth, she is grinning from it to the pillow. Turning, without a word, she reaches up and pulls his lips to hers. As their lips dance their tongues join the fray, travelling from his mouth to hers like a tide ebbing and flowing.

Her beautiful behind, the source of so much pleasure and torture, is now firmly pressed to the bed. His soaking wet cock lies across her thigh, as if reaching for her. She is now fully awake, kissing more now than breathing. He's been teased long enough and the longing in her has arisen.

Moving her long fingers with their blade-like nails, she traces a path of scratches along his back. She weaves and spins them like skaters, leaving a red trail along his skin. His back muscles are flexed as he rises up with his arms, preparing for a dive. A dive, not into cool water, but into her to become one. As he hovers over her, his head finds her opening. Both are hot and wet. Her legs spread wide, an open invitation.

A miniscule thought of teasing her in turn passes through his mind like a lightening bolt. The firm grasp of her fingers on his ass makes it vanish just as fast. The blades of her nails penetrate his skin and he does her sex.

The relief and joy that his struggle is at an end is overwhelming. Breaking the silence, he growls and grrr's. Plunging into her, she is so warm, so tight, so right. Her sex is to him as the bed is to them now. They are together.

Her cool feet graze his behind as he is lost in his relief. She pulls him in, to fill her and join her. His primal grunts make her smile. He is her man. He feels he's having his way with her, but she is having her way with him. She hopes they will always have their way with each other.

Intoxicated with the moment, he senses that he has no eyes, no ears, no tongue. Just himself, heading deeper and deeper within her. Over and over he goes. Seemingly searching to explore her, each expedition rewarding. She pulls on his hair and her nails, snapping like splinters into his back, draw blood. He is oblivious to pain as pleasure grows from his groin and spreads to his head. The anticipation, the knowing, the build-up gets higher, higher, higher, and higher.

She feels him now, losing himself in her. His breath comes hot and fast. The bed screeches and moans at this onslaught. Yet, not only is it the springs and wood groaning and moaning, it is she that adds to the chorus of sexual chaos. Begging and commanding him both at the same time to fill her. For him to give it to her, harder, harder, harder, and harder.

He feels the anticipation rise to a peak just as he feels himself erupting within her. All six feet of him is lost in the sensation of seven inches. He's longed for this for minutes that have felt like millennia. To give her his seed. That she loves him and wants it, makes him feel complete. His eyes closed, yellow light seems to flash across his eyelids. The orgasmic endorphins flow through him, drifting on the rivers of his blood stream.

As he thrusts and twitches, she feels him come within her. Feels his seed spraying from his head and coating her insides. The initial spurt is strong and distinct, but quickly the torrent turns to a trickle. His muscles tense and she can feel his strength give out. He descends to her, smothering her body with the weight of his own. His hardness fading, but not disappearing, from within her. She caresses his back and pets his hair like she would a puppy. He was a good boy after all.

Lost in the relaxation and incoherent in his bliss he lowers his head to her breasts. There, just inches away, beats the heart that loves him. Thump thump, thump thump. Music to his ears and his favourite tune, heard through his favourite set of head phones.

She runs her hands along his battle-scarred back. Her palms find his cheeks, grisly and scratching the gentle skin between her breasts. Lifting his head, raising his gaze to meet hers, she pulls his lips to hers once again. Pulling back, he takes in the beautiful green hue of her eyes. So vibrant, Celtic and mysterious.

As he makes to open his mouth, to speak to this goddess he worships, she stops him. Her finger on his lips touches him with the delicacy of a feather, but with the strength of steel. Hushing him, she smiles revealing the pure, pearl whites of her teeth.

"Good morning love."