Warm hands roamed my body, up my arm, down my back, over my bottom. Curled against him, I was in a warm cocoon of blankets, flesh, and roving fingers.
I refused to open my eyes and find out whether it was early or late. He wasn’t demanding anything other than all of me. I acquiesced, silently submitting.
Fingers strummed and plucked at my nipples until they were tight, sensitive peaks, until I gasped and arched my body.
Strong hands stroked across my skin, gliding over muscle and sinew as I melted further into his embrace. He held my throat, stroked my cheek, gently pushed past my lips to touch my tongue. I made almost no sound, my breath and body movements the only reaction.
He ran his fingers through my hair, his nails over my back, his thumb over my mouth.
Was he waiting for a sign from me? I still don’t know.
After each complete and thorough pass over my body, he would begin again, firmer, more insistent than before.
The plucking and tickling of my nipples became almost unbearable in its intensity. Damp heat bloomed in my center. I finally choked out a soft cry. It hurt so good.
He would come back to this over and over again. Between strokes of my clit and lips. After finger-fucking me until my pussy squelched and overflowed with hot cream. While my body shuddered and shook from aftershocks from one orgasm after another.
There were his fingertips, insistent on the peaks of my nipples, until I cried out, small waves of pleasure overtaking me. Tortured and pleasured until I grabbed onto the wrought-iron rails of the bed and held on for dear life. I would not pull away or deny him. I couldn’t. My body refused to give up this painful pleasure.
Later, after I’d begged for more orgasms, after my juices coated my inner thighs and his hand, after I’d sucked my come off of his fingers, only then did he sink his cock deep into my body, sighing with his own pleasure, taking what was his.
Welcome to Masturbation Monday! In our house, we call this “Sunday morning.” Well, sometimes. It was certainly a nice way to wake up – and then fall right back to sleep for a lazy day. Go find out what other writers and bloggers came up with for this, the best of all days.
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Bwahaha! I love the ‘In Our House We Call This Sunday Morning.’ May every Sunday be so delightful 😉
I hope so!
Very stirring story.
Thank you! 🙂
Now that’s a lovely way to wake!!
I thought so, too!
love masterbating mondays so sweet