Save it ’til the morning after

My eyes are closed, but I am drifting in that limbo place between sleeping and waking. I am not sure where I am until I feel something soft, wet and warm on my right breast, playfully nibbling and sucking.

The stubble on his chin gently tickles me and I open my eyes to see The Man has started without me. His sky blue eyes meet mine and he realises he’s achieved what he set out to do – roused me from my slumber and aroused my body.

Our bodies are still slightly tainted from the night before, we probably carry a carnal odour of sweat and pleasure, our breath of wine, coffee and morning and I dare not look in the mirror lest I see black crusty clumps of mascara. But somehow ‘morning after’ lust is purer, more primal and warmer than the electricity-charged, alcohol- fuelled night before.

The Man traces the journey from my breast up to my mouth with tiny soft kisses as he slides on top of me and his hand moves in the opposite direction, down to my warm and throbbing clitoris. She had her fill last night, but now she’s hungry again. His skilful fingers play her like a virtuoso and soon I am writhing in ecstasy.

Now fully awake, I make a grab at his solid penis and he moves so it is in reach of my mouth. I suck, nibble, lick and take it further and further into my mouth as he moans in rapture.

Our eyes meet again and we know we have to fuck right now. And our slightly sticky bodies merge into one. This time less frantic than the night before but somehow closer, deeper. The morning sounds of neighbours talking on the other side of the wall, cars outside and doors being slammed all seem to fade out. All that exists is the two of us and this room, our bunker from the outside world. He is inside me and I am encircling him.

We kiss softly, affectionately, slower and more frequently. Neither notices if the other has stale breath as by now we taste of one another. As we roll over and I snuggle into his chest I feel safe, warm, elated. The rest of the day can wait a little longer. Besides, our bodies are so sticky now, we will have to prize ourselves apart.

Yes, this really is morning glory – that special time when you feel closer, speech is minimal as your bodies do the talking and you are cushioned from the outside world. And there is the comfort that he will still do me, even when my makeup has smudged off and the soft focus of the evening has been replaced by the cold light of day and my far-from-perfect body.

11 thoughts on “Save it ’til the morning after

  1. There are times DSM when you talk dirty , when I wonder if you are not really Kevin from number 23 ( on the web you can be anyone you like). However other posts and even most of this disinclines me ( is that correct grammar) to believe that. What it does do is raise the question of how men and women think about sex. Certainly I wish I’d known when I was younger how lewd women really were especially amongst themselves. Men generally never talk about their partners as intimately – I’ve heard women discussing their husbands girth for Christ’s sake – I’m not talking about their waste size either. Maybe men think about sex more often. When I hear the average is every 7 seconds I always compare myself and think that if 7 seconds is the average then some poor bastard must be going weeks without the thought – but women definitely talk about it more. The question is do you think about it the more sex you have or think about it less the less sex you have? I suspect it’s here that men and women diverge statistically, with men thinking about it more the less they get and women thinking about it less the less they get.

    • I would say, Lou, that not all women are the same. My situation is rather a feast and famine one – and I am currently in a famine phase – but still, it’s not too far from my thoughts. And with the rising number of female erotica writers, I would suggest I am not alone in my thoughts.

  2. Oh the fickle female mind. For us men, the female wants & desires can be so confusing.
    From my experience, (after 18 years of faithful marriage), it has been rather a revaluation to be actively hunting relationships again.
    I am lucky now to have a rare female friend who is candid enough for me to recognise her thoughts & desires rival any man’s in the pants department. Indeed she could be DSM for all I know. But what I will never understand is the female psyche.
    This article, (like all your other prose) beautifully describes a moment; of desire rekindled, sated and post coital glow, the latter being a very female feeling. And DSM, (I’m sure of your authenticity), As the man is not a routine part of your life, I can understand that to you this is a very rare & special moment to treasure. (We men being far more centered upon the hunt & conquest to revel in the afterglow).
    Yet once in a relationship, most women I know become too driven to enjoy. They desire animals, children, house in the country which requires long commutes, gym memberships etc etc. All things that inhibit the opportunity to linger & languish or even find time let alone sex, and therein lies the rub.

    • Well, DGS, I can assure you that I am not your female friend, unless you are ‘The Man’ in disguise… Maybe I do treasure the ‘post coital glow’ more than someone in a proper relationship, but like to think that with all the hindsight I now have, I would approach any new relationship differently. There are more important things than animals, kids, the country house and other trappings. One of them is time – something money can’t buy.

      • Hey DSM. I’m sorry to hear you’re going through a dry spell ( perhaps not the best turn of phrase) 🙂 I was reading through your back numbers on Cliterati – it was the early hours here and I was wide awake with nothing better to do – sad eh? – and in one of them you said at least you will have some memories to take with you into the nursing home. Its so true and something I’ve tried to point out to some female friends – if I’m honest failed conquests whose moral compass steers them away . I admire you enormously for recognising this but what I really wanted to say was what fantastic prose in some of those posts like ” me on the inside but an airbrushed, toned and gorgeous temptress on the outside ”

        Other things that strike a chord are you recognising in “The Man” that “It sometimes feels like he would rather please me than himself. I can only assume he gets pleasure from giving me pleasure. ” When I say I recognise that in myself , it’s not conceit but just to confirm that there are guys like that around but sadly many women just don’t accept that its possible and are suspicious. In a similar vein I’ve noticed that so many Anglo-Saxon women seem to be unable to accept a compliment graciously whereas French women have an ease about them that make both parties feel comfortable. So just a thought and an odd question . What’s of more value to you in bed ? An orgasm or a deep uninhibited tear inducing laugh. Perhaps the less common one?

        • Hi Lou. That’s a tough choice – as you have said before, laughter is one of the best aphrodisiacs which could lead to our clothes falling off, so how about the ‘uninhibited laugh’ followed by the orgasm? Or is that cheating?

          • Got a better idea, how about “during” the orgasm. Never done it myself but someone must have 😉

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