A Lovely Day

Really, Really good Sundays start with my eyes fluttering open to the sounds of birds and....my warm body wrapped in his.

It is a day where only two things occupy my mind ....to see if he can keep up with me, and that we'll end the day with battle scars from the sucking, tugging, licking, slipping, slapping which occurs all in the name of love.

These Sundays are usually preceded by a week from hell and is a wonderful tool to refocus oneself through surrender to your attraction to him and his lovemaking with absolute ease.

Curling into his chest, kissing his bulging biceps, brushing your lips against his bearded cheeks, watching him slowly awaken....asking at that point if you could make love to him....seeing his eyes light up at the thought. Yes, on Sundays like that you conquer the bed, the bedroom floor, the bathroom adjoining, the kitchen....ahhh the kitchen....and any other room you choose. Its a necessity that no room is left unblessed.

If you are really, really lucky, this unfolds in a Hotel room on the North or South Coast where sustenance is but a phone call away. For Sundays like that you would actually pick a fight just to see how well he could channel his anger into more constructive energy.....

As he lays there... chest exposed, hair sprinkled across each pec, eyes glossy, his dark skin against the white sheets...you watch the rise and fall of his stomach as his excitement builds at the sight of you kneeling over him, tongue between your parted lips, hands trailing a path to his groin, swaying to the primal rhythm of his fingers on your clit....

How sweet a Sunday can be when you set yourself free.