He woke as he always did, at 6:15, to the rhythmic tone of the alarm. Five minute snooze alarm pushed, he turned to his wife's sleeping form beside him. Her hair curled across her pillow and the blond wisps caressed the soft skin of her cheek. He slid closer to her, wrapping her in his arms. The proximity of her body aroused him, and he pressed closer. Her back to him, her hips pushed back against the familiar feel of his body, but still she slept, peaceful and protected. He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand, and with the alarm sounding again, he rose from their bed.
Slipping from their side door into the foggy dawn, he clicked the stopwatch that would time his run. The scent of her hair, the soft resilience of her body pressed to his, the curve of her face... Thoughts lingered, keeping him in a semi-aroused state, evidenced by the continued bulge in the silky running shorts as he smoothly and swiftly ran the miles of his usual route. Finishing the run, he went through his routine of pushups and sit-ups, then showered.
He returned to the bedroom, clean, freshly shaven, body still quickened from his workout. With lights off, he gathered his clothes. His glance strayed to her from time to time, still driven to desire by her closeness. Clothes in hand, he started for the closet, where he would dress so the light would not disturb her. He stopped by her sleeping form, his eyes following the contour of her body, the graceful curve of her neck, the soft skin of her face. His breath came quicker. He bent to plant soft kisses on her cheek, and resisted the temptation satisfy his desire against that beautiful familiar face, laying on its pillow like a jewel in a red satin case. With a deep breath he turned from her to begin the rest of the day.
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She felt him press against her, and the familiar arousal of his body as he pressed close. His arms were around her, but not tightly, not squeezing; just enveloping, like a strong wall from which she could emerge at will, but no one else could enter. She pressed her hips back again him, and felt the firmness of his cock against her ass. She nestled against him, and felt him pulse from the pressure of her body against him. She pressed herself contentedly against him, and, pulling her covers closer, drifted back again into sleep. She did not notice him leave the bed, or leave the house for his morning run. Only when he bent to kiss her did she surface from her rest. Her eyes fluttered briefly open as he bent to kiss her, and inches from her lips was the object of her desire - not hard now, but firm, and she knew how it would react to her. As he turned to go, she fell asleep again, this time slipping into dream, thinking of the feel of his cock in her hands, so real that she could feel it harden as she slowly slid her hand up and down it. The shaft lengthening, the ridges of its head bumping along her fingers as she dreamed of loosely gripping it and pumping her hand up and down. Her lips parted to take in more breath as her pulse quickened in the dream. Aroused now, she began to wake to the rhythm of their day.
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Still in the skimpy shorts in which she'd slept, she came out to the kitchen. Their children were stirring in their room. Her husband, back to her, was pouring coffee in a mug. Her eyes admired him, from legs and hips, to the upward V of his back and the solid shoulders in his tailored shirt. He was not large, but she knew the body under that suit - lean and cut, muscular, and stronger now, she suspected, then when they had met twenty years before. Had his body changed? Somehow he was bigger, beefier, than when they'd met, but she knew his weight had changed little. She came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Her breasts, still aroused from her dream, pressed against his broad back. The smell of the coffee and his showered body flooded her with comfort, and she pulled him tighter.
"Mmmm. Good morning" he whispered. She could hear the smile in his voice. Her hands moved up to caress his chest, running them across his muscles. He reached behind to touch her back and press her to him again. She nodded her head, caressing her cheek against his starched shirt. Then, still inspired by her dream, her hands moved down between his legs, and she began to caress him through the front of his trousers. She felt his body react, and she pressed harder, until he turned around to clutch her to him. She felt his hardness against her stomach, and his hands on her hips. She felt her legs begin to spread reflexively as her desire mounted. His hands slid firmly up her hips, to her waist, and then her chest, and moved to cup her breasts. Her nipples were fully aroused, pressing the fabric of her soft top, and his caressed them gently. He bent his head to gently kiss her cleavage.
She turned again, so she was against the counter, and pushed her hips back against him. Arching her back, she moved her hips up and down, so the bulge in his pants slid within the firm globes of her ass. He made a low growl, and pulled her hips towards him, bouncing her body against his. Her breasts shook, and her body opened to her need for him. Pulling her close, he whispered "I have to go."
"And I have to come!" she shot back with a giggle. Proud of her salacious pun, she stroked him some more. With her hands pressed to his pants she kissed his ear, and whispered "Can I have some of this tonight? Hmm? If I say please?"