Ok, ladies and gents. Woke up this morning, and decided to write this story. Just another day in the life of me. 🙂
You fade in and out of conscious, only awaken by sounds of shuffling.
More shuffling. You fade back in. As the world becomes more in focus, you realize the bed cover laid awkwardly, halfway down your naked body, covering your crotch. Two Face.
You begin to fade out, but there’s more shuffling. You look to the left, toward the walk-in closet. Beautiful. Brown-skinned. Brutally bad. Damn, she’s bad. She’s putting on her laced panties, and every motion seemed so aesthetically feminine, or maybe you’re still a bit groggy from the night prior. Nevertheless, you’re smiling at her. You’re now even more convinced that you still suffer from the effects of stupor because when she notices your gaze she speaks, but it’s unintelligible. She smiles back at you knowing that you didn’t understand a word.
The world is at it’s clearest now. Your senses return to normal, or as normal as it can get in your state. She walks out of the closet, sits down, and places her hand on your chest. “You have to get up”, she says. The best alarm clock in the world is your loving wife. This time, she’s waking you from slumber so that you two can attend church. You nod in confirmation.
You surprise her when she starts walking away by grabbing and throwing her to the bed, face down. Before she can retaliate , you gently give the first kiss on her right cheek, and that cheek is not the cheek on her face. The second, a little higher up. The third, even more higher. It’s repeated all the way up her back, and each kiss is a bit of bliss, and you’ll be remiss if you failed to mention how soft her skin is. The last kiss lands at the side of her neck, and she anticipates more, but “we have to get up”, you say with a grin.
She turns her head sideways and whispers “I hate you”. While you’re still hovering over her, completely nude, she immediately thrusts her hips into your pelvic area with her back arched, and just gyrates…very slowly. She lets out a deep, long, and sensual exhale. You “react” as any man would. When she realizes your reaction is at it’s peak, she stops gyrating, and turns her body to face yours. “I forgot, we do have to get up.” She pushes you off of her, and heads to the kitchen grinning at you as she walks away. You lay there slightly disappointed, yet still smiling. You write a mental letter:
Dear Jack Daniels,
Thank you for a memorable night.