The world was suddenly bright as I opened my eyes to the hair streaming down her neck. The sun was barely up, and I had been waking earlier and earlier on my new work-school-home schedule. Before anything else, I click my phone screen on to check the time... 6:22. I groan. I don't even have to be up until 7:00. C'est la vie.
I put my phone back down and slowly scoot myself up against her. She's warm against the cold fabric of the sheets. My back is a little stiff, as is usual when I sleep next to her, but the feeling of our bodies curving perfectly against one another is worth the pain. She smells like me; we use the same things in the shower, since she doesn't care for frills and we both love my taste.
I slide my hand around her hip and onto her stomach, using the tips of my fingers to move the front of her shirt out of the way. Smooth, soft, perfect... there's nothing better than waking up to her skin safe against my palm.
"Mm..." escapes her lips, along with a nearly silent kissing sound. I make the same sounds back, and she snuggles up against me even more. It seems she's always either half-asleep, or she's thinking of me in her sleep. It's a wonderful feeling to know even when she's asleep she wants to feel my lips against hers.
I lay there for a moment and get comfortable again to squeeze in a few final moments of rest, but it's nearly impossible. Once I'm awake, I'm pretty much ready for the day. After a few minutes of slight readjustments and attempts to slip away, I give up and look at my phone again. 6:29.
I might as well make use of the time, then. Fingertips already at her waistband, I let them drift further down, and playfully trace a line across her from hip to hip, occasionally drawing tiny circles down her thighs.
"Mm, my love..." she whispers. She must just be half-asleep now.
"My angel," I reply, breathing the words through the thin veil of hair laying across her ear. Now knowing she's with me, I dare to be a little more adventurous.
My hand makes its way to the inside of her legs, making long, gentle strokes down to just above her knees and back up. She's just shaved last night, she's been really good with taking care of her skin, and the result is that I don't think she's ever felt more smooth. I could spend hours just exploring her body all over again to appreciate it.
She turns her head slightly and I see a sliver of sunlight reflecting off her squinted eyes. Her cheekbones are well-defined, her pupils simply shine, and the rainbow her iris makes at this angle are all too much. She's so beautiful. I kiss her forehead to make sure she knows that, and I get a sweet smile in response. We're so hopelessly in love.
But there's more here. On the other end of the day, when the sun is just going down, not coming up, there's another life to live. We both have our secrets, our needs, our desires. Apart from a lovely evening after work with a glass of wine and our favorite shows, we took the evening to make beautiful love, as we always do. Sometimes it's slow, sometimes it's fast, and every single time, we end up exhausted and content. Often, we fall asleep straight from there, though last night we somehow managed to clean ourselves up afterward and then make it to bed.
And I wanted more. I always do. And so does she. Had we more time together in this bed, or even in this apartment, we would be inseparable. We lust for each other more than I've ever known any couple to, and it'll be our undoing, surely. Even in these few waking moments we've already warmed ourselves up for a morning of promiscuity.
And I'm going to take that opportunity, but this time, with a little less gentle admiration.
I plan it perfectly, moments before she begins to turn to me. Just as she spins herself around and settles herself against my chest, I slide my other arm underneath her, spin us together rapidly to the edge of the bed, and in one swift motion I both throw the sheets to the foot of the bed with one hand and lay her perfectly in my lap with the other. She lets out a confused yelp, and she's quickly brought to full consciousnessโ
"Whaโwhy?!" She confusedly exclaims.
"My love, it's been a while..." I moan to her, catching her eye as she looks up at me from laying across my knee. Rather than fingertips, now my entire hand is wandering up the backs of her legs. I knead her here and there, taking her better curves into my hand and quickly moving up to more sensitive areas. I pull outward and upward, parting her legs, and making her toes curl ever so slightly.
She's wearing a pair of her best paper-thin and romantic panties, adorned with lace and a little bow at the top of the back. It's playful and sexy, and she loves to wear them often just to tease me. It accentuates her well; while we both take pride in how our backsides are shaped (by the grace of genetics!), I always admire hers more. I think she would win in a line-up.
"Such a beautiful ass, my dear," I can't help but say. I rest my hand right in the center of the half farther from me, and contort myself to lean down and take a nibble out of the other. She knows how much I love to do this, and loves it equally. I elicit a mix of whimper and soft moan with my teeth, tearing away at small stripes of skin nestled in the most sensitive folds.
"You're silly," she retorts. "And what exactly are you doing?"
"I'm telling you that you're all mine, and I can do anything I want with you." I look down at her loving eyes briefly as I say it. I cock a slanted smile, quickly turning devious. I let the silence take over for a moment afterward. The slightest gap between the crease of her lips open, and her eyes shy away in anticipation.
Then I pull my hand up and away, and bring it back down sharply.
An involuntary gasp is returned, and she snaps her head forward and away from me in shock. I gently move my hand in a circle against her for a moment, and then bring my hand back up over another area.
She gasps again, and her legs squirm between mine. While it's only gentle motions - not enough to really even cause her skin to redden - I know what the feeling means to her. She loves it...and I certainly do. We've done this only a few times before, often as a part of experimenting into our own sexualities, and our sexuality together. I've always sensed a distant feeling of longing for more; her subtle motions toward me for another hit, the way she recoils away and back to me each time, and the noises I elicit are telltale signs.