I lay flat on my back. Legs akimbo. Shoulders pressed into the pillow, to force not-at-all perky breasts to jut forward. Or simply sag a little less.
The cool air from the ceiling fan kissed warm, dark corners of my body.
“Are you going to let me lie down on my side of the bed, babygirl?”
I slid over. A boob grab and a kiss later, and we spooned for sleep.
The sun rose slowly in the sky. Why was I awake? What was he doing?
I heard him trundle off to the bathroom, nature calling too early in the morning.
Instead of curling back into the sheets, I rolled onto my back. Hips flat against the bed, arms spread out. Open, waiting.
I kept my eyes closed and held my breath. Would he pounce?
He grabbed his glasses and went to make coffee.
“Why didn’t we have sex this morning?” It was weird to ask, to have expected it and not received.
“I almost grabbed you. I had morning…” He grabbed his cock as his speech broke off, cognizant of little ears in the next room. “But I’d rather you were awake and participating the next time we have sex.
Libidos, muscle spasms, and energy levels still have not aligned for sex…yet.
Welcome to Masturbation Monday. I wish I could report some amazing kinky fuckery since the last amazing kinky fuckery, but life happens. And, poor John Brownstone, is still waiting for me to be awake and willing to participate. Frankly, so am I. For actual smut, you know where to go!