FICTION: A Little Oral to Start the Day

“Please turn that off,” I say, pulling the pillow over my head, the alarm’s buzz entering through my ear and piercing every cell in my body. My DNA moans.

“We need to get up,” you say, your hand groping toward the alarm, smashing down on the snooze button. “It’s 8. We have to be at my mum’s in an hour.”

“Five minutes, Hailey, OK?” I say, grabbing you around the waist and pulling you to me. My arm wraps around you easily, and I feel your ass press into my crotch, your head on my other arm. I nuzzle my face against your neck and close my eyes, the perfect big spoon.

We sleep in on Sundays. We always sleep in on Sundays. Some weekends, we see how long we can go without getting out of bed. Our current record is 4:21 p.m. But your mother invited us for breakfast, and you accepted. And even though I was kind of peeved you did, I am a good boyfriend. So I agreed. Two weeks ago. Now it is 8 a.m., and the alarm is going off, and I am back to being peeved.

My mind is awake even though my body is not accepting the premise. I think about all of the things I’d rather be doing today than driving to your mom’s, eating stale biscuits and runny eggs, listening to which cousin did what to whom — no one I have ever met or even know — and getting talked into a trip to the grocer or a game of canasta.

I am on the edge of throwing a small but dignified “I don’t want to go” fit when you adjust your position, driving your ass against my cock. Your head eases back a bit, and I get a whiff of your shampoo. My lips graze your cheek. Suddenly, I am no longer mad.

I wrap my hands tighter around your waist, drawing you to me. I kiss lightly on the back of your neck — your spot — and bite gently with my teeth. Even half asleep you give me a little moan.

“We can’t,” you say, feeling my hard cock pressing against your ass.

“Sure we can,” I say, my hands under your tank top, moving over your stomach.

“No,” you say, exhaling as I slip up under the tank, cupping your breasts and pulling at the nipples. “Mum, um, time. Fuck. None.”

On cue, the alarm kicks in again, blasting that screeching sound that I have grown to despise. My mouth not leaving your neck, I reach out, blindly, find the front of the alarm, grip it, jerk it and toss it across the room, ripping it out of the socket and leaving it in a plastic heap somewhere around the window.

You gasp, startled. Before you can react, I grab you, flipping you over on your back. I practically lift you, I am so forceful. My hands reach down and jerk off your boy shorts, pulling them down to your ankles before you can finish saying, “What did you just do?”

I pull the sheet over my head and disappear under, trailing kisses down your stomach. I look up, your head flat against the pillow, your brown hair fanning out under you like a scene from a painting.

My hands caress your skin and spread your legs, pulling them over my shoulders. My mouth teases you, lightly licking you and edging the tip of my tongue in, tasting you. You are always wet and warm in the mornings. I lap at you, driving my tongue deeper and getting you all over my lips. You moan, and I glance up. Your hands are pulling at your nipples, your eyes tracing the ceiling, lost in some sort of morning limbo.

I lick up, teasing your clit with my tongue. I slide a finger in and fuck you gently to the rhythm of my tongue.

I can hear your breathing increase, the moaning louder, your hips pressing up harder, more urgently. I increase my rhythm, my finger soaked from your cum, my tongue making you swear to Jesus Christ. You inhale hard, holding your breath. My fingers fuck you harder and faster. I know you are close.

I feel your hands on my head now, pressing me gently into you. Your thighs squeezing against my ears. Your hips raise up, meeting my finger’s strokes.

Your hand grabs a chunk of my hair, and you thrust up, hard, against my mouth. Your body tenses, hanging there for seconds, minutes — your eyes rolled in the back of your head, your breathing a thing of the past. Your orgasm is always a full-body explosion,

You stay there, hips off the bed, floating against me. Frozen in that moment, milking every millisecond of pleasure out of it.

Satisfied you grope at me, urging me up. I am reluctant to leave, but I give you one final kiss and scoot north, my mouth finding yours. You always kiss me after I make you cum.

“That was amazing,” you say, your hands on my face. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“But we’re going to be late. You need to cum fast.”

“Ha,” I laugh. “Romantic.”

“Shhh,” you say. “How do you want it? My mouth? My hand? My pussy?”

I move my pelvis slightly, so I am centered between your legs. My cock is throbbing, and with one upward thrust, I am in you. You smile. “Oh, fuck,” you say. “OK. I see.”

I kiss you, my ass lifting up and pressing back down, my cock driving into you. I know you want this fast, but I want to enjoy you a little bit.

You wrap your legs around me, not in a “hurry up and cum way,” but your natural reaction to me being in this position. Your arms reach around me and you pull me tight, enjoying the closeness of our bodies.

Unsatisfied, I reach down, lifting your ass up so I can fuck you deeper. You gasp and bite my neck. I sit up, on my knees, grabbing your waist and pulling you to me. I like this position because I can look down, see my cock sinking into you.

My hands grip your waist, pulling you back and forth on my cock. You glisten around me as I disappear into your tight pussy.

“Fuck,” you say. “I can again.”

“Fuck, yeah,” I say, smiling. “You cum, and I will.”

You reach back, palms flush against our headboard, using it as leverage to shove hard against me.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you say, eyes clamped shut, cumming around my cock. You squeeze me, and I almost lose it.

I let you cum for as long as I can, but I know I can’t last. I stroke deep, letting it last until I can’t.

I pull out, stroking my cock, slick with your cum. I jerk the shaft and aim the head toward your stomach. A few strokes, and I lose it. I shoot a thick blast against your stomach, and then another, you giggle as it drips down your sides and soaks our sheets.

“Warm,” you say, your hand lightly rubbing it into your skin. You pull your finger to your lips. “Mmmm, tasty.”

I collapse to the bed, face first, burying myself into the pillow. Spent.

“I guess we should get up,” I say, a few minutes later. I turn over on my back, my arms behind my head.

“Yeah,” you say, not moving.

“I think I broke the alarm.”

“You did,” you say.

“Sorry.

“It’s OK.”

Outside, I can hear a car starting and birds chirping. An air conditioner kicks in.

“We’re going to be late,” I say.

“Probably,” you say, throwing your arm over my chest and sliding your head against my shoulder.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/rao9uz/fiction_a_little_oral_to_start_the_day