Morning Kiss

Waking: daylight calls
behind a
cloud; birds
duetting to soft
slumbers, barely

moving: to look with
fingers finding
warm skin,
lithe body,
resting in
wait
for me

stroking: nails gently
down,
swirl around
loop up to return;
shuffling closer
as the
slumberer
murmurs,
and

sinking: under; the
early morning warmth
stifles, then
comforts,
my limbs finding
the
curves and joints
of yours;
the practised movements
spoken by our
bodies still immersed
in sleep:
muscle memory

inhaling: the musk,
the heady dark scent
of you, the you
who slept nine hours
not yet
awake but rising
to meet my
lips, in a

slow breathing,
long
lingering,
tongue
savouring
suck.

Repeat: flicking tip
over you,
your wetness
reflected in
my own,
found with
fingers
dancing,
brought
up
to
your mouth
to
suck
as I do.

Gripping: hard at the
base; a hand
twisting around,
following
the trail of my
tongue;
I indulge
my
hunger,
a guttural
moan from you:
the girl
needs
a
feed.

Hands: through my hair
as hips
jerk;
it can't wait, this sort
of awakening is nothing so
spiritual but primal,
it
takes
no time to meditate,
it's coming

the push.

Both hands at
my temples
as you fuck
deep,
my
mouth;
hold it there,
hold it
girl.

Pull back.
Two gasps
entwined.

Again.

I blink
the water from
my eyes,
whilst
good morning
kisses
fill my throat.

The gasps repeat,
ever rasping,
until too close.

Watching: your strokes fast
before blurry
streaked
eyes;
I offer
an open mouth,
but you
make it
drip from
my lips,
to
kiss yourself off,
to start
again

kissing: tongues searching,
senses nourished,
the first words -
good morning -
mumbled between
breaths;
- dirty bitch -
I smile, knowing
your day
started well:
- i love you too -
i whisper,
and I show you,
legs apart,
that I do.