Good Morning

That grand college relationship is always special. College is a time for exploration anyway, But unscheduled unsupervised time to explore the physical as well as the emotional... Mmmm...

Lilly was extraordinary even beyond all that. Her easy laughter, endless energy, and lithe form got the attention of nearly everyone. She never felt her small perfect breasts required a bra, and crushed velvet body suits or jean shorts with more holes than fabric often left JUST enough to the imagination. But what made her MY manic pixie dream girl were the quirks, the curiosity, the confidence. From robotics projects to sneaking into conference rooms to fuck on the enormous table, she never did anything half way.

Ours was one of those schools where everyone was so busy that often the only time you got to see your significant other was when you slept in the same place. And sleeping next to her was nearly as magical as wearing her out beforehand. Her habit of getting herself off just before she went to class (to help her "focus"), the way she ate every meal like it was the best she'd ever had... You can hardly blame me for moving in with her as soon as she let me.

Ours was a basement studio in a historic part of town. The alley access and exposed brick walls, copper pots hung in the kitchen and giant bed facing the old cabinet television all made it... ours: our own little hobbit hole. Far enough from campus that we could forget about school for a while, far enough from housemates that no one complained when we were... noisy, but cozy enough that could watch M*A*S*H episodes for hours while we studied or snuggled, cook elaborate meals and sip chai... It was the perfect environment to love her in.

And one particular morning stands out more than most.

I woke up gradually rather than all at once. Sunday mornings are wonderful like that. No alarms, no hassles, no hurries, no cares. Sunlight's soft glow through the curtains, fuzzy flannel sheets against my legs, warm skin against my back. Warm skin...

I turned my head, slowly so as not to wake her. Her hair on the pillow, her shoulder rising and falling with her breath. Lilly. The woman I love. There are worse ways to awaken. And there are worse ways to spend a Sunday afternoon in than lying in bed with a beautiful girl.

There isn't, however, anything much worse than morning mouth. I slipped from the bed to get a drink of water. On my way back from the kitchen, my eyes passed over a pile of scarves, a bottle of massage oil, a jar of honey, a single feather. A flicker of a smile crossed my face. Memories. And possibilities. But both were for another day. A few more hours sleep, then a lazy brunch.

She had rolled over, a knee and one arm sprawled in her unconscious search for the warmth that had left her. Sunlight through the curtain now played over the whole of her body, its shadows calling attention to every curve. The blankets had fallen away, leaving nothing covering her perfect skin, nothing hiding her beauty. And it was breathtaking.

With her legs splayed unselfconsciously, her breasts rising with each breath, my thoughts turned to things other than sleep...

I approached the foot of the bed rather than the side I had left. I crawled, careful not to wake her, until my eyes were level with the soft brown tangle of her pubic hair. I laid a gentle kiss on the lips below. So beautiful... I rested my cheek against her thigh and reached out to touch her with just the tip of my tongue. Still she didn't stir.

I raised my eyes to her face as I slowly, deliberately ran my tongue along her lips, checking for any sign that she was awake. She was as angelically still as the moment before. Bolder now, I licked a bit harder, the tip of my tongue stealing between her sweet lips, savoring her flavor and seeking the small bud within.

As I brushed her clitoris, I did hear a soft sigh and her head shifted slightly. Her eyes, however, remained closed and still. I wondered if she were really still asleep or just playing along. I preferred to imagine she was still asleep.

I continued to caress her now parting lips, fluttering along the edges, rising occasionally to slide across the swollen nub at their juncture. As her breathing deepened noticeably, I paid more and more attention to her clit, stroking it with my tongue in a steady strumming rhythm.

I again looked up to her face. It seemed a bit flushed, and though her eyes were still closed, the slightest suggestion of a smile played at the corners of her lips. It disappeared as I increased my speed and pressure. One finger, then two stole inside of her as I licked at her center with hunger and purpose.

Faster. My lips close around her. Harder. I feel the muscles of her thighs tense against my face. Faster still. Her hips quiver beneath me. Deeper. Sharp intakes of breath. My tongue is a blur on her, against her, within her. Rocking. Tensing. Faster. Rising. One long shudder, a whispered sigh, then still. Still.

With one last kiss, I crawled gently up her body to hold her. As I lowered my hips onto hers, I entered her. Not to satisfy my needs or to rekindle hers, but to be close to her. As close to her as I can. I closed my arms around her and held her, from within and without.

At last her eyes open. "Good morning my love" she breathes against my neck.

"Good morning."

Indeed.

Our relationship wasn't always perfect. There were arguments, jealousy, misunderstandings. There were some harsh words and once someone cheated. But there were more good times than bad. And those lazy Sunday mornings will always be what I remember most.