Wake-up sex

The current prompt on Quote Quest asks us to consider the following:

“A morning coffee is my favourite way of starting the day, settling the nerves so that they don’t later fray.”

– Marcia Carrington

Now, I am not a morning person, and I will freely admit that coffee is definitely one of my vices, and once I’m up and out of bed, there is a certain truth to the above quote. When faced by a mountain of paperwork or case notes that need reviewing, there sometimes feels like there isn’t going to be enough coffee to see me through it.

Often though, my day starts much earlier than my first mug of coffee, and when it does, it often goes along the following lines…

I wake up feeling warm and relaxed. I can feel Master C’s body, hard and warm behind me as He holds me close, His breath warm against my neck. I wriggle gently against Him, letting Him know I am awake; pressing back against His early morning erection.

A kiss on my neck, a gentle squeeze of my boob is all it takes to ignite my desire. I moan softly and rock my hips, Master C’s cock slips between my legs.

His hand travels over my body, starting with my boobs; my nipples stiffen as Master C gently teases them. The stubble on His chin scratches my shoulder as He nuzzles into my neck and I feel my cunt respond, growing warmer and moister with every second.

His hand slides lower; I part my legs slightly to ease His access. A finger slips between my lower lips and works its way inside me.  I moan and grind myself against Master C’s hand. My cunt grows wetter and hotter as my body responds to His attentions.

Master C slips His finger from my cunt. I take His hand and lift it to my mouth. I take His finger between my lips, tasting myself.

I reach down between my legs. I wrap my fingers around Master C’s cock and begin to rub the head between my lips and over my clit; teasing myself, building my arousal.

His hands caress my boobs; His fingers tease my nipples. Tingles run through me as I work the head of Master C’s cock over my clit.

I shift on to my back, Master C moves above, positioning Himself between my legs. His cock, presses against me; I spread my legs slightly, moving, my hips, to accept Him.

He pushes into me; I clutch at His back as His cock fills me.

Our bodies move; Master C sinks into me, slowly but forcefully, filling me, stretching me. His pubic bone grinds against my clit, neurons spark in the pleasure centres of my brain.

The pace increases. Hearts pound, breathing quickens. My body begins to shake, my cunt grips His cock tightly.

Master C pushes harder, more forcefully, impaling me on His wonderful cock. My orgasm builds inside me. I moan more loudly as I let the pleasure wash over me.

He groans. His body tenses. A strangled gasp escapes Him as Master C erupts inside me, filling me with His seed; hot, thick and sticky inside me.

He collapses on to me, breathing hard, pinning me beneath Him. Finally, Master C rolls off; we cling to each other, holding each other close as His cum dribbles from my cunt.

We doze; that languid post-fuck drowsiness holds us until the alarm clock sounds and a new day starts.

So yes, my morning coffee is a very important part of my routine, but I think my favourite start to the day looks more like what I have just described; then followed by coffee, of course…

What about love?

The current prompt on Quote Quest asks us to consider the following:

“We waste time looking for the perfect lover, instead of creating the perfect love.”

– Tom Robbins

Now, if I’m being honest, I don’t think I’ve spend much time looking for a perfect lover. I have spent a lot of time and effort looking for great (and often, not so great) sex partners, but lovers are a different matter. Yes, Master C definitely is, amongst other things, my lover and He is very definitely my love, and as far as perfection goes, well, I guess that in an imperfect world, they are as close as I’ll get, and I couldn’t be happier, or more satisfied than that.

Stepping back, however, when does a shag become a lover?

At the time, I was pretty sure that I was in love with the boyfriend I let fuck me for the first time. I was definitely attracted to him, I enjoyed spending time with him, as our relationship grew over the few years we were boyfriend and girlfriend; starting from just awkward kissing, all the way up to where he was fucking me in the arse, I’d enjoyed every stop on our journey of sexual exploration. I loved what he could do to my body and make it feel, and I loved doing things back; I particularly loved knowing I was responsible for his orgasm. I was heartbroken when our relationship ended after being so intense, but these things tend to happen, and I was possibly even more upset when he passed away after a short battle with cancer a couple of years ago. But, was it love, or was it just the hormonal rush of horny teenagers? I suspect it was a combination of both.

I’d had “boyfriends” before him, and I’m sure I’d told them that I loved them, but I suspect it would be fair to say he was the first boyfriend that was, actually, a lover.

We wasn’t, however, my first lover. That accolade goes to “The Girl”. With her it was a love that grew out of friendship and would become physical. She was the first person (if you exclude my own efforts) to bring me to orgasm. Almost 30 years later, our friendship is still intimate and physical (albeit we can’t be physical at the moment because of Covid) . We revel in each other’s company. There are few greater, yet more simple pleasures than when we get together, spend hours talking shite over a few glasses of wine, and generally fucking each other senseless.

“The Other Guy” is also someone I would put in the “lover” camp. He started of as a random fuck. I hadn’t yet met Master C and I was single at the time. We met via an online contact site, we fucked and, not only was the sex good, but we discovered we actually liked each other, so we decided we would fuck some more. And so we did; whilst never making it to “couple” status we did move from random, to what might almost be described as a “classic” Friends with Benefits relationship which, if you’ve read this blog before will know, still carries on (albeit currently with the same caveats as the relationship with “The Girl”) today.

Then, there is Master C. Again, we started of as casual. We evolved into the kind of Friends with Benefits arrangement that I had with “The Other Guy” and then morphed into a couple. We moved in together a couple of years later and the rest, as they say, is history.

But then, what about the members of our “Sharing Circle”? Are they lovers or are they just sex partners? Well, it’s true that I enjoy their company when we’re sharing (although, honestly, some more than others), and I definitely enjoy the sex, but that’s about as far as it goes. For the most part, these are people that I fuck and people who fuck me. They aren’t people I call up for chats, or spend time with simply for the pleasure of their company. I don’t miss them in the way that I miss “The Girl” or “The Other Guy”. There is no emotional bond. The sex is great and it offers some exciting variety but if the “Circle” ended, I wouldn’t be devastated; I wouldn’t long for and pine after it in the way that I would if my relationships with “The Girl”, “The Other Guy” and especially my relationship with Master C were to end. The are regular (to partners who to a greater or lesser degree I am friendly with rather than people I would consider friends, and certainly I doubt that any would evolve to become “Friends with Benefits” In that respect, I guess, they don’t meet the “lover” criteria, and that’s absolutely fine.

So could I say that I have a perfect love? Well, if I’m being honest, I have to say “no”. Master C and I are, after all, only human. We have our faults, we argue and get on each other’s nerves, we do things that piss each other off; but that’s part of what being life partners is all about. Is Master C the “perfect” lover? Well, certainly, He knows my body and the way it responds like no one else. He can make my knickers fall fall off and my cunt sopping wet and hungry for His cock with just a glance or a gesture. He can and does play my body like a maestro plays a classic instrument. But is He perfect?

Well, again, I would say “no”. Not because I don’t love everything about Him, the things He does and the way He makes me feel, but simply because, like me, Master C is human, and we are not perfect. Besides which, if things were “perfect”, there would never be the opportunity for things to be even better, I would never need to be educated, guided and, where necessary, disciplined, and how dull would that be?

So I will happily take our imperfect lives and the implicit imperfections of our love simply because those imperfections are part of what makes it so fucking great.