‘I am glad I was up so late, for that’s the reason I was up so early.’
– William Shakespeare, Cymbeline
There’s not enough time. The lie-in has been too long, too much time was spent over tea and breakfast, and now the commitments of the day have started looming over us. It’s definitely time to get up, there just isn’t enough time.
But…but…I still take his cock in my mouth. I still suck him in deeply, feeling him thicken in my throat. I have been thinking about this since we woke and I’m already trembling at his touch, his taste. He pushes his hips up at me, filling me until I am choking, and his delicious, soft noises make my skin tingle like it’s on fire. Soon, he pulls me upwards and I moan as he slides into my soaking cunt, thrusting hard, my thighs wrapped around his waist. Shuddering, gasping, I’m coming around him before I really know what’s happening, and then he’s pushing harder and faster and groaning into my hair as he comes moments later. For a minute we’re still, panting in each other’s arms and lost, forgetting the complete lack of time…before scrambling out of bed, throwing on clothes and rushing on with the day.
I love a quick fuck. It’s almost indescribably hot. I love that it’s not a wise choice, that it’s rushed, but we can’t not. It makes me feel incredible that he can’t keep his hands off me and I feel like a goddess when he comes so quickly, that I can do that to him, that we can do that to each other. I love starting the day feeling so bruised and flushed and sated.
Because, honestly, it makes me feel fucking irresistible…