Sunday, 14 November 2010

Not another chunky Sunday morning...

Although Sunday afternoon sex is pretty damn good, it has a contender in Sunday morning sex. As evidenced by what happened this morning - although, having been too tired for sex the preceding night, perhaps it was the result of pent-up energy. Energy, perhaps, sourced from the large amount of Mexican food, rendering us tired in the first place. That, coupled with the fact that it's Remembrance Sunday, and we wanted to go to church, and therefore we needed to get up at some point.

No energy. No time. No question. We had to have sex.

She started it ("I want... I want..."), but I was up for a bit of naughty Sunday morning sex as well. I mean, this is me - when would I ever not be in the mood for some sex? Really?!
I moved on top of her, kissed her neck. She moaned, a low guttural roll which I could feel. I kept kissing her neck, stroking her wrist. There was no need for oral sex - she was wet, and she wanted me. I was hard, and I wanted her too. I moved forward and pushed into her in one fluid stroke. Very nice. Good control, ILB. Well done. And we rubbed against each other as we moved. Slow, steady, increasing in pace. Very deep, very close. Closer. Closer. She laid her hands on my back, curling herself around my body. And then, seemingly from nowhere, she came, with a shudder and a gasp as her body seized up and I found myself coming into her as well.

We finished, got up, went to church, came home, watched Glee, ate lunch and watched some more Glee. I saw her off at the train station this afternoon. It wasn't a happy goodbye, but then again, they never are. Nor was it a particularly warm one. My coat can't keep the cold out forever.

"I was just thinking..." I speculated.
"You know when we had sex this morning?"
"That was really good, huh?"

As evidenced by this song.

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