Wicked Wednesday – 10/7/15 (Morning Glory)


It’s a new day, the birds start singing right outside your window as the day is breaking. It’s time to get up… how do you feel about that? Are you a morning person? Do you get up immediately or do you pull the covers over your head to get back to sleep and shut out the birds? If you’re not a morning person, what makes your mornings better? Coffee? Sex? Silence? A shower? Masturbation?

He silenced the alarm almost as soon as it began to beep and took a long moment to stare down at the beautiful burgundy haired woman in his bed. She was at her most relaxed when she slept and he loved the look of peacefulness on her face. He also knew just how to wake her up in a way that wouldn’t destroy that serene contentment that was so rarely present during her waking hours.

She stirred as he rolled from their bed and reached for him in her sleep. He caught her hand with a gentle squeeze and tucked the blankets closer around her knowing the winter chill would steal her warmth if he did not. The kettle was filled and the scents of cinnamon and maple syrup filled the tiny kitchen and her sleeping self noted these changes on some level; she smiled and stretched, but did not wake, too buried into the blankets to be bothered by the approaching day. The kettle went on in the other room as a cup of tea was prepared for hot water, Earl Grey with an extra hit of bergamot and too much sugar would compliment the french toast wonderfully, but first she would need to be awake enough to enjoy breakfast. He killed the heat under the nearly boiling kettle, popped the toast into the oven to stay warm and wandered back to the bedroom.

A warm body slid into the bed and cuddled up against her. She made a soft noise and snuggled close to him; his smile nearly became a laugh as she tried to wrap him in the blankets despite her slumber. She always tried to take care of him. He kissed her gently, starting at her forehead, both cheeks, and just barely on her lips. The warm, soft kisses moved lower to her neck and he gently started the process of sliding the blankets away from her, to have better access to the curves and lines of her naked body, to trace them with his hands, to touch her and show her how he loved her.

She shifted at his touch, her lips parting with a sigh as her legs followed suit, nudged ever so gently by him. He kissed the insides of her thighs, just above her clit, and just below it. A slow lick from the bottom edge of her pussy all the way up, and swirled along her labia on the down stroke. That was enough to make her whimper and push her hips against him. That was the moment he was waiting for.

He buried his face at the juncture of her thighs, relishing the scent of her, the taste as he kissed, licked, nibbled, and sucked. Very gently still, but never hesitant, knowing that the best part of his day would wake up knowing that she was loved. And to homemade french toast with a hot cup of tea. Perfect for a cold winter morning. Perfect for her. His only warning was the sudden thrust and grind of her vulva against him as her eyes flew open and she moaned softly as she orgasmed, blessing him with her own morning glory.







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