It was still dark when she woke but by the timbre of his breathing she could tell he was awake too. She rolled lazily into the circle of his arm, resting a cheek on his chest. The same as every morning. This time, though, she was rewarded with an unexpected hand tugging at her camisole. Fingers seeking to wake a soft, sleepy nipple. She sighed as she felt it harden and pressed her hips into his side.

Face to face, she could feel his erection. Hard, morning wood that brought sensation flooding into her cunt. She maneuvered her hips as he pulled off her shorts, rolling onto her back and spreading her legs. Fingers sought out her warm, dark places, pushing into her cunt hard enough to make her catch her breath. She still hadn't opened her eyes.

She didn't want to kiss him—worried about her own morning breath, not interested in tasting his—so she pushed his head to her breast. He obligingly sucked one taut nipple into his mouth, sending a ripple down the neural pathways that connected breast to brain. She arched her back, offering more of herself, as her awakening body responded to his touch.

"Were you dreaming of me?" His breath was hot at the base of her neck.

"Just like this," she said. It was true. She always dreamed of him before waking. Of fucking him, or sucking him off, or pushing his tousled head up hard against her cunt. She wondered if she was still dreaming now but his insistent fingers between her legs were altogether real.

She reached an arm across for his cock. He always slept naked, so it was easy to find and grasp, no fumbling with pajama pants. It was even harder now—of course it was—and she felt the tip for the sticky pre-cum she loved the taste of so much.

"You're ready," she said.

"You too."

He pulled his fingers out of her, slowly letting them trail over her clit. She gave a sharp little gasp. Then he rolled on top her and let her guide him inside. This time her gasp was longer, lower, more intense. Propping himself up on his elbows and nuzzling her other breast, he started moving slowly in and out of her. Withdrawing practically all the way and then plunging back into her with a grunt, gradually picking up speed, building intensity as she pushed back against him with her hips and opened herself wider.

When she was close to coming, she slipped a hand down between them. Her clit was swollen, standing proud from its hood of flesh and slick with her juices. She rubbed it gently with her index and middle fingers, not too hard or too fast. She held off, waiting until the pattern of his breathing changed, waiting until she knew he was on the brink. He thrust harder and his back arched, pressing his hips forward and practically crushing her hand. She managed to move it just enough, letting the pressure of his weight help her. His cock pulsed inside her. He grunted to the same rhythm. She came and her muscles clenched around him, an achy sigh escaping as she bit down on her lower lip.

He slumped forward onto her chest, both of them damp, both smelling of sex. She kissed the side of his jaw and tugged at a handful of his hair. His cock slipped out of her and she felt the rush of hot semen escaping in its wake. It made her smile—this moment always did.

The room was still dark, though not quite as dark as when they'd started. It was at least another hour until the alarm would sound. She nudged him and he rolled away onto his back. She resumed her position with her head on his chest. His arm snaked around her Sleep reclaimed them both. She might wake and mistake it for a dream—but only until the moment she would realize that her thigh was stuck to the sheet.

I bite his wrist and sigh in the scent of him. He still tastes the same, the way he tasted all those years ago when I first put my mouth on his body. I can remember. Scent and taste lodge in the brain. Forever.

I want to leave a mark with my teeth. Something that will stay with him for an hour or a day. A small visual reminder for once I've gone. The taste of me has long been stored in his mind. His mouth has touched every inch of my skin, more than once. Innumerable times.

He rescues his wrist and gives me his lips in its place.

"Do I still taste the same?"

"Yes."

Hi,

My name is Tamsin Flowers and I'm an erotica writer. I've been an erotica writer for four years and I've tried seeking help. Nothing has worked. In the dead of night, filthy dirty naughty words tumble through my brain. In the cold light of morning, I write them down and disseminate them. I'll be sharing some of them here with you - I'm so sorry but those are the words that come easily...