In The Morning
He hadn’t yet buttoned his shirt, and his hair was still tussled from sleep when she appeared in the bathroom doorway. Before he could fasten a single button, she gripped either side of the blue patterned fabric where his hands lingered. She gently tugged the front of the shirt, pulling him toward her. She was tiny compared to his lanky frame, and she only saw his bare, pale chest with its brown swirls of hair, his pink nipples, and his pink lips above, surrounded by a growth of stubble that he had no intentions of shaving.
His lips parted as she pressed against him, her head titled up to his face. He covered her hands with his for a moment before moving them down around her waist. He bent his head down to kiss her, sensing that she wasn’t just seeking a fleeting moment of morning, pre-work attention. Her lids fell heavy over her eyes as if she were intoxicated. She’d turned on music in the bedroom; he could hear the sensual beats of “Heavenly” by Cigarettes After Sex but couldn’t make out the words.
“What are you doing, darling?” he asked her rhetorically, his lips on hers, with a low, breathy laugh. She just giggled in response, swaying her hips. He smiled down at her, and she smiled back mischievously.
He put his hands on her hips, and pushed her up on the wide counter, her back to the mirror on the wall, her long hair reflecting in it. She wrapped her petite legs around him, sliding her hands lightly across his chest, and kissed him again. He moved his hands down to her thighs, beneath her short, blush-colored, satin slip, caressing the inside of her legs with his thumbs, brushing them against the center of her panties. He started to pull back the stretchy lace fabric, already sodden with her desire, but she put her hand over his, stopping him with a slight pressure.
“No, I don’t want that,” she said in a quiet voice, surprising him because she usually did want it. Her mouth moved closer to his ear and she slid her hands up his arms across his shoulders. “I just want you.”
Her words excited him, stirring his desire, and he put his hands on her back, squeezing her tight. His face brushed against her hair as he spoke into her ear, whispering, “OK.”
The fire kindled inside him, he kissed her mouth again, entwining their tongues as he pressed his pelvis to hers, a hand on the small of her back holding her to him. She could feel his phallic yearning blossoming between her legs, restrained by his trousers. Pulling away from his fiery kisses, she kissed his neck and slid her hands down his back, across his stomach to the clasp on his pant fly. She felt the vibration of a low moan in his throat against her lips when she unhooked the clasp and tugged down his zipper. Moving her kisses to his chest, she stretched the band of his boxers back and reached inside to release his erection, leaving the elastic low on his hips, and letting his trousers fall loose. He gripped the sides of her panties beneath her slip and she lifted herself a few inches off the counter so he could pull them down her legs. She hugged her knees to her chest as he tore the panties over her feet. Then he grabbed her ankles and put her legs behind him again. She put her hands on his shaft, sliding them up and down its length, intensifying his arousal. Then, urging him closer to her with pressure from her hand on his hip, she directed his erection to her aching damp center, impatient for him.
He sighed, his lips against her forehead and his breath warm on her skin, as he pushed himself inside her, stretching her delicate folds apart. Her mouth fell open and her brow furrowed as he moved slowly in and out of her. He pushed her backwards, leaning his weight over her, so that she had to put her hands on the counter behind her to steady herself. She made him sigh again as she said his name in a low and husky voice against his cheek. His open mouth brushed her cheeks and lips as he lightly kissed her erratically. Then he suddenly kissed her harder on her cheek as he said to her in a breathy whisper, “Tell me what you’re thinking about.”
She brushed her nose against his, her breath on his lips as she whispered in reply, “I’m thinking about your fingers on me last night.”
“Did you like that, baby?” he asked her softly.
“Mm, it was so intense,” she murmured.
He kissed her again hastily, pulling away to tilt his head to the other side, his kisses hot and quick as he buried his tongue inside her mouth. His pelvic to-and-fro motions steadily increased, rocking her as he bumped into her, but he resisted the urge for frenzied thrusting. A rising tidal wave of ecstasy was about to crash over him despite his efforts to restrain it. She trembled beneath him, almost whining as she pulled away from his intense kisses, softly moaning his name again and again.
“You’re so sexy, darling,” he whispered to her, dropping his mouth to her neck as she titled her head back, her hair falling on the counter. The tidal wave hit him sooner than he anticipated, and his hot flow of passion spilled into her as he groaned into her shoulder. He breathed heavily on her skin, sighing, and felt her hand in his hair, massaging his scalp.
Unsure if she had reached the peak of her desire, he felt a twinge of insecurity as his erection receded. She kissed his forehead as if to reassure him. He started to ask, “Did you…?” but his words trailed off before he could find the rest of the words.
“I just like the way you feel sometimes,” she said, kissing his lips again. He held his face above hers and she finally looked up into his eyes. She smiled at him and he tried to smile back, but bit at his lower lip in worry. She sat forward and hugged him as he pulled his trousers back up, covering himself as if in embarrassment.
“I love you, baby,” she said, looking at him again.
He sighed and whispered, “I love you, too,” before kissing her.
She tugged on the front of his shirt, saying, “You better hurry now,” reminding him that he still had to get ready for work.
He looked at his watch and said, “I’m already late.”
“Oops,” she said, grimacing at him, eyes widening, but he just shook his head and laughed, not caring about work. He could hear the melody of Bryan Ferry’s song “Slave to Love” wafting in from the bedroom, escalating his emotions for her. He wanted to touch her again, but she slid off the counter, stood on her tip toes and quickly kissed his lips.
“I’ll get your coffee ready,” she said, clasping his hands with hers and squeezing them before she turned away.
He ran his fingers through his hair, gripping the base of his neck as he watched her walk past the bathroom door and out of his view.Start writing here…