Sensual Mornings

Dear Reader,

I love being taken in the morning, as I wake up, even before I wake up, my lover initiating the lovemaking in my sleep, in my dreams, making me wake up with the thought, the knowledge, the pleasure that her first thought has been to get me up, to love me again.

Yes, when I am taken in the morning, upon awakening, the lovemaking of the night blends together with the lovemaking of the morning as seamlessly, as smoothly, as the wetness of your lips sliding over and down the wet and smooth softness of my tip. Yes, take and unpeel me for your morning hunger: my cock a banana with a strawberry on top, my juices a nectar.

When you take me in the morning, I never want you to finish: I want the morning lovemaking to last into afternoon and evening and again through the night. In turn, I want to make love to you 24 hours in a day, with my words and deeds, with care and attention, giving you the same kindness and attention to your desires and thoughts and needs and concerns that you give to my cock. Yes, I want you to be my first thought and last thought of the day.

As you suck and swirl your tongue. I listen to your sounds of pleasure...your inarticulate but so eloquent ummmming and mmmmmminng, as if you are savoring some special dessert. As you suck and swirl, I begin thinking about how I will also take you by surprise today--Will it be after we finish the coffee and breakfast that I will bring to you in bed? Will it begin when I approach you from behind and slip my hands under your blouse and press my hands against your heart as you are standing before your garden reminisicing as you watch the butterflies gather nectar, contentedly opening and parting their wings as they suck it in?

Or will it be in late-afternoon, when we are just enjoying a cool drink, a gin and tonic, our eyes locking on to each other, smiling and flirting a bit as we did when we first became lovers, as I take the slice of lime out of the glass and begin sucking on it, stripping it of its flesh, and you respond by moving your hands up and down the glass, and the game continues, until we are finished our drink, and my lover's eyes motion us inside towards the bedroom.

But I stop you at the door, kiss you passionately, and then begin stripping you right there, snaking my tongue inside your lips, then your blouse pulled off, ripped down almost, and then straight to your nipples, flicking them quickly and then sucking them into taut, firey points, and then doing to the nipples what you are now doing to my cock, in bed, in the morning: myself imagining teasing and pleasuring you with my tongue as much as you are doing to me.

Then I will carry you off to the shade of the garden and make love to you with powerful long thrusts until my seed is planted deep within and accepted with the graspings, the wave-like contractions, the enclosings of your orgasmic bliss, enveloping us both in a radiant energy and a wetness, as if your garden had just been planted and watered anew.

The thought excites me deeply, and I thrust myself deeply into your mouth, all the way back, making you moan and gasp as you feel my intensity, my passion, my love, and you repond: the pace quickens, and we begin that wonderful last dance of fellatio--the little rhythmic push and pull, suck and swallow that has me in an erotic delirium.

Then, as if somone had swung open the curtains and opened the windows on a glorious morning day, letting the sunshine into a darkened room filled with the lust and scattered erotic debris of the last night--the lingerie, the lotion, the champagne glasses, the candles, and the jewelry box that had contained the turquoise necklace I had given you for your birthday last night, the only thing you are wearing now--I come inside of you like a sunbeam riding a gust of fresh morning wind.

You hold me now with both hands as you finish sucking me off, holding me admiringly, letting me down slowly, guiding my descent, the descent of a feather falling from the heavens, until I am resting contentedly, peacefully, lovingly, as peacefully as I was when we fell asleep in each other's arms in the early morning, after lovemaking all night long to the rhythms and beatings and lyrical beauty of Native American music, and with your hand now covering my cock, protecting it, you slide up alongside me and we join forever for a kiss, doing with our tongues above what you had done to me below, and I hold you tight and squeeze you into me, as tightly as I will be doing an hour or a few hours later, when it is my turn to take you by surprise.

Enjoy,

Sappholover