**Re: Good Morning**
You awake first. Hard as granite. I am on my side, facing away. An arm’s length apart but feels like a gulf. You touch my back and are immediately rewarded with a breathy hmmmm.
You want me.
As you embrace me in a big spoony hug, the primal need to penetrate takes over. No introduction, just your hard cock plunged into my tight wetness, still tingling from last night. So easy to slip in from behind.
But.
Wouldn’t normally do this. Is she still asleep? Does she want it?
My consent has been given, is a given. I am yours until revoked. Every impulse is allowed, every touch is welcome.
In a moment, I will grind, squirm, beg you to pound me. Afterwards I will suck you, cherish you, while you use your fingers to bring me to the edge.
But for this moment this is everything we need. You deep inside me. Still. Powerful.
From empty to filled.
From two to one.
From apart to together.
– – – –
That email still anchors me. I remember writing it, fingers trembling at you deep asleep a world away.
That was in our first truly smitten phase. Where I wrote ‘*isn’t infatuation a buzz?*’. The reply instant: ‘*Hell yes*’. And then: ‘*First thought when u awake, last thought when u fall asleep*’.
That made my nose buzz, made me beam, made me breathe in but not out. How malleable our brains, how fickle our affections to swiftly blurted words. The evidence of messages at 5am, midnight and every moment in between, every day for weeks, months, without fail . . . . . . somehow less powerful than that simple reporting of facts.
Seems so innocent now, so obvious. Of course I consent. Who am I if not yours?
And yet, in that moment, it felt like I was gifting you something precious.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/qr2vt9/consent_part_1_the_email