It all started out innocently enough, as you decided to call it a night after a long day of errands and chores. You were fine physically but were mentally drained, as you climbed into bed in just your nightgown. You are the type of person that many of us of envy, the one that can fall asleep as your eyes close. As you always do, you position yourself on your side, with your knees slightly bent upward, waiting for your man to join you, as I always do creating the perfect spoon. It never fails either, when I crawl into bed with you and take my position, you will subconsciously push your backside into me, so that I can hold you just a little bit closer. This night was to be a bit different, I had a plan and to execute it, I needed you sound asleep, deep in your own thoughts. I waited rather impatiently for an hour, making sure you were well into a deep sleep, before I made my move.
I moved across the bedroom floor making sure I did not startle you and joined you in bed, on my side and propping my head up with my right arm. I stayed in that position for several minutes, waiting on my eyes to adjust to the darkness, to reveal your stunning silhouette to me. I looked you up and down, as I often do, taking in each and every curve with my eyes, as I pictured my hands rubbing over each one of them. I get lost in how soft your skin is and how hard you work to keep it that way for me, and though I so want to reach out and touch you right now, I maintain control and just watch you sleep. I focus in on your nightgown that has slid up, fully exposing the beauty that his your left thigh. I again resist the urge to run my hand down its full length, knowing what secret it hides just on the other side.
I carefully take the few strands of your hair and tuck them behind your ear, leaving me full access. I carefully slide just close enough, as to not touch you, but still able to bend over to get right at your ear. I took one more glance at your body positioning, making sure that I would not come in contact with any part of you and then begin.
In the softest voice I could muster up and its volume barely above a whisper, I began painting you an image.