It was a good day. You know, the kind of good day that comes on a really normal, average Saturday morning. The kids were at your mother's for the weekend, that helped a lot. It's been awhile since we've had a full day alone, just us.
As I stretched, extending my thick cut thighs and toned forearms to the ends of the bed, I notice your eye flutter into consciousness. My body snuggles in tight to your curves, my groin pressing firmly against your right cheek, which rests comfortably on top of your left. Hard, defined pecs press to your shoulders, while biceps and forearms wrapped around your waist, your long thin hair in my mouth, and the moist sweat beading out from underneath your soft, plush c-cups is cool like morning dew on the matted hairs of my arm. It was perfect.
Well... Maybe it wasn't perfect, but it was our reality. Not everything is perfect after all the work is done, there's always more work to do. Our road to success may had been less frequented than steps to a mountain top Buddhist Temple, but we made it this far. You've lost over in fat 70 lbs, and I've gained more than half of that in muscle. You saw abs tighten and define themselves as I saw hips and waist slim while your curves came into focus. My eyes started drawing their gaze across your core, while yours began inspecting my bulging biceps and deltoids, which lead to both of our backs and shoulders becoming irresistible, so much so that we'd stopped looking at each others face and did it from behind a few times. On top of our physical changes, we've pulled out our heads from the sand, brought each other up from the depths of hell, tripped each other back in, and dove down after one another. It was tough, but we are stronger than most people have made us out to be in our lives, and we were going to live each moment we could, harder and faster than the last, only taking our rest when life has nothing left to throw at us.
Warmth, comfort, and safety is what I feel with you, what keeps me coming back, what made me yours to begin with. Being with you in these moments of peace makes me feel blissfully relaxed. Every moment I'm near you lets me turn off my safety switch, and focus on the feelings that make up my personality. Every fiber of my true self comes out around you. It also seemed to make a certain someone a little too eager, as I felt heat from my crotch rise how the morning flag rises to the top of it's pole.
I was never one to make a big deal of sex, and really, neither were you. Sure, we had our moments of passion on our honeymoon, and of course, when we made our marriage "bedroom official", but nothing out of the ordinary. Sex once or twice every couple of weeks, if we weren't too busy, and the blowjob from two years ago was pretty good, from what I can remember. You and I were pretty wasted, you especially. I mean, we would have to be to do what we did that night, right? Those things we did, when we were under the influence? It was a huge misrepresentation of who we are. Those acts were a mistake, that's all. Sex, that disgusting and downright dirty version of "it", is optional.
The early dawn warmth was spreading outwards from my shaft. A spark struck the tip and the sensation flowed down to the girthy trunk of the morning wood, falling below to my balls. My lightning rod stiffens, allowing more hormones to flow and fill the flesh with desire. Though, our usual Saturday morning routine begins, and I suppress the urge I have inside and the feelings start to subside. Correction, "it" was optional.
A cute, playful sigh from across the bed is followed by a tiny stretch as you reach around. "Mmmm... Good morning, sir" Your hand ruffles the sheet and your fingers find themselves in my boxers as the tips of your nails graze my mast. Slowly slipping your fingers in my shorts, gently touching from the tip to the base of your new found friend. In the big picture of our day, sexual excitement gets in the way. My hips slide back quickly, your hand falling from my cotton cage, mine grazing your breast like the soft touch of a feather. Our bodies growing farther out of reach as our routine moves on. A concerned chuckle slips out as I ask, "What do you think you're doing? It's Saturday, there's too much to be done to mess up our morning schedule like this."
