*Author’s note: This is my first post here, and I was helped by* u/Lady_Appleby *in editing the story. Without her help, it wouldn’t be as good as it is.*
It is always in the wee hours of morning that he will stir. His eyelids fighting a losing battle as he rouses himself to look at the silhouette lying beside him under the covers, sharing in each other’s warmth – a small comfort from the colder temperatures of the morning.
His right arm is still wrapped carefully around her waist, while the other is stuck under her weight. She has become his makeshift cuddle pillow for the night. Her bare back presses against his chest, her breathing slow and soft.
He has tried to make more time in his daily routine for her, but it is hard. He has a career to devote himself to, and despite his best efforts, he seems to always end up doing overtime at the office. On the average day, he only drags his weary body home several hours past the typical dinner time, his hair dishevelled from the trials of the workplace. But when he sees her smiling face at the door, his cares evaporate.
If anything, his daily drudgery has highlighted how little time they have together. So, every day, half an hour before he is supposed to get up for work, he often forces himself awake, trying his utmost to savour every fleeting second that he will spend lying beside her. He watches as the faint morning light from the window dances across her beautiful, sculptured shoulders, arms and back, making the rich tones of her skin almost glow in the half-darkness. He breathes in the sweet fragrance of her dark locks, as they trailed enticingly across his pillow. And he listens to the soft, deep rhythm of her breathing, and feels himself at peace.
She is his muse, and he often finds himself whispering sappy romanticisms when he thinks she cannot hear him – words that he usually finds himself too shy and embarrassed to say out loud. This morning, a soft serenade permeates the room, his voice still gently husky from sleep as he murmurs a rendition of “Can’t Help Falling in Love” in her ear.
As the final lines of the song leave his lips, he sits up with a faint sigh, feeling the duvet fall to the side, but only to stiffen as he feels her twist about in the bed, her lips moving to his neck. The cold air gives way to blanketing warmth as her breath tickles his neck, her slightly wet lips forming a smile as she feels his breathing grow shallow and quicken.
“That was lovely, sweetheart. But it’s still a couple more minutes before we need to get up. Come back to bed?”
Her voice is more of a whisper – deep and sensual from her slumber.
“W-when did you-”
“About the midpoint of the song, love. Stay in bed? You’re delightfully warm, and I’d prefer to keep you beside me like this.”
“You know that I’ll be late if we sleep in, don’t you?”
She rises up, leaning on her side, propped up on one elbow. Her large, dark eyes twinkle with mischief. Placing a hand on his chest, she pushes him back onto the bed, with a wicked smirk. Then, leaning forward, so that her lips brush against his ear, she whispers, “Who said anything about sleeping?”
All of his senses burn with the intensity of her spoken desire. And he swallows nervously but his throat is too dry to speak and his mind had already gone blank. Just a handful of moments ago, his mind had been brimming with poetry and romance. But now, it is a blank canvas as he recedes back onto the mattress, only able to stare in mute submission as she approaches him on all fours, catlike, her eyes locked with his, as a predator might stare down her prey. Unable to avert his gaze, he has found himself lost in her intense greenish brown eyes.
“Relax, love. Let me help you.”
Her voice takes on a sultry tone as she wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him into a seated position, his legs sprawled out on the mattress beneath them. Then, she slowly backs away, shuffling backwards on the bed, her gaze all the while lingering on his body possessively, hungrily.
He sees her eyes darting down, shooting past his bare chest, resting between his legs. She licks her lips again, raising her gaze once more to lock eyes with him. He knows what she wants and his hands shake with suppressed ardour when she says, “Take them off. Now.” And it is clear that she is not asking.
He slides off his sweatpants, kicking them off once they are around his ankles, earning a nod of approval from her. Even in the dim light, she can see, easily, that he is as keen as her for a bit of morning fun, despite his bashful behaviour. His hard-ridged cock is leaking at the tip, and despite her usual composed mannerisms, her lust supersedes her discipline and she knows what she wants to do to him right here and then.
Her hands run their way down his thighs, and she can feel his legs tremble slightly, his eyes begging her to take control. Mischievously, her tongue darts out, as she sinks her mouth down on him, making an agonising trail from his base to his tip. And then, her tongue runs wickedly around his ridge, before tickling the hole at the very tip, and ending with her lips caressing his head with just the faintest pressure.
His hands clutch at the sheets, as his hips do their utmost to refrain from rising to press deeply into her throat. Seeing this, she gives a bright laugh.
“It’s alright, sweetheart. You’re not going to hurt me.”
He emits a guttural groan, releasing the bedsheets and gently letting his hands rest around his lover’s soft locks. It is always a treat for her on the rare occasion when he lets her take control.
“You’re sure? I won’t hurt you? You want this?”
She pauses for a moment, rising to his eye level before softly cupping his cheeks.
“I trust you. I know you’d never hurt me.”
Leaning forward, she locks lips with him, stealing his breath away before resting her forehead on his.
He is in control now, having been reassured that she wants this to happen. He feels her run little kisses all the way down his neck, chest and torso, and his gentle but firm hands egg her on till her lips and playful tongue met his member once again.
Her tongue flickers lightly across his head – his saltiness lapped up eagerly. And his hands tighten on the back of her head as the sensation of her tongue along his shaft and tip sparks up his spine. She takes him in deeper, rocking her head back and forth in slow, delightful motions, feeling his length twitch along her dextrous tongue, responding to every little lick she gives. They lock eyes. And she sinks in as deeply as she can, taking most of his cock in her mouth, palming his balls, gently stroking his taint as she does. She knows what she is doing.
But then, he feels the pressure on his balls grow tighter as he feels something new: She is humming – a rich, low note that sends shivers deep into his groin and makes his cock twitch reflexively. And her delicate fingers are caressing the rim of his ass – something entirely new for him – as her thumb continues stoking him in the sensitive spot just below his balls. She hears his moans and breathing quicken in response.
His left hand, adorned with their wedding band, lets go of her head and slides along her shoulder, down to his thigh, to rest on her palm. It is a silent plea for her to take his hand in hers. Her heart melts at the gesture, and she interlocks her fingers with his. As though the contact has connected their souls, his veins feel like they have been set alight, and he lets out an odd mixture of a whimper and a groan.
Grasping his hand in hers, she sucks him off, slowly and insistently. He feels the heat building within him and lets out his voice with wild abandon, groaning as his hips buck against her mouth. Within moments, he is over the edge and pulsating, ropes of his seed spilling out into her. She swallows and keeps sucking, even harder, as he pants her name breathlessly between gasps. He thrusts upwards uncontrollably and grabs her hair until he cannot take it anymore and tries desperately to pull out, while a second, smaller orgasm makes his cock spasm, ejecting a final bit of cum – all of which is captured in her mouth.
In that moment, he has never felt so vulnerable and yet, so powerful at the same time. As the pleasure ebbs out of his system, he shivers as he watches her swallow, her gaze resting on his panting form, leaning against the headrest of the bed.
Giving his thigh another squeeze, his beloved is about to let go of his hand, her fingers still intertwined with his, when she feels him pull her back towards him, turning her so she is in his lap. As her face whips around to face his, he lowers his lips and holds her in a kiss, their breathing shallow from earlier exertions. When they finally disengage, he has a smile on his face too.
“Time to get ready for work, babe,” he says, relishing the cheeky flush across her face, a rare sight for someone who is usually so in control.
His days are spent in stuffy shirts, with a tie constricted around his neck, and not in the manner that he usually likes. She always watches him rise from their bed. Her eyes half asleep but still predatory as she takes his near-nude form in. When he is in his shirt and pants, it is her turn to tear herself from the comfort of the bed. His back is turned to her, but he can hear the rustling of the sheets as she comes to him, her arms snaking their way around his waist as she tiptoes to kiss his neck, his eyes lighting up with pleasure as he looks at his form, now intertwined with hers.
The grin that grows on her face is contrasted by the early morning glow as she moves to the nearby drawer, choosing his tie and cufflinks. Meek as a lamb despite their morning exercise, he is unable to meet her gaze as she takes his wrists, putting his cufflinks in place and tying his tie, before turning his chin to make him face her. She gives him a once over, ensuring his attire is perfect and letting her gaze fixate on his tapered dress pants for just a moment too long, telling him how ravishingly delicious he looks, when she sees his blushing face in the full-length mirror.
Finally, tilting his wrist, she sees that he is already going to be late and she gently nudges him towards the door.
“Go, get your things, and run along to work, babe. And if you are a very good boy, maybe I’ll reward you when you get back.”
“No, love,” he whispers back, “you are the only reward I need.”
*Final note; I wrote this with a special someone in mind. I’m a dumbass cuz I like her even after getting dumped. I shan’t bore anyone with the details, but suffice to say that I’ll be posting a bunch of stories here. Cheers.*
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/fzrgee/in_the_morning_hours_mf_gfd_affection