The bedroom is dark and quiet until the alarm blares. I roll over and bury my face against your shoulder.
“Oh my God, turn it off,” I mutter. You fumble for the phone and manage to stop the alarm.
“Work,” you tell me. I roll over and snuggle deeper into the bed.
“I work from home. Go away,” I respond. You curl against my back and press the lengths of our bodies together. Your arm curls possessively around my waist.
“You don’t really mean that,” you tell me. “Come on, darlin, at least a quickie.”
I consider this idea. I can feel exactly how invested you are in the idea of a quickie. The evidence is pressing against my ass. Involuntarily, my hips press backwards drawing a long, low moan from you and a soft gasp from me. You kiss my cheek, then my jaw, before burying your face in my neck.
I slowly roll over and slide a leg in-between yours. We both lay on our sides as I lean in for a kiss. I reach into your boxers and start to firmly, yet slowly stroke your cock. My thumb swipes over the head on each upstroke. I angle my body so that I can rock and grind against your thigh as we kiss.