Longing

I've always been a big fan of being woken up for sex. Whether it be in the middle of the night or early in the morning nothing gets me hotter then knowing that he wakes up wanting. This morning we wake up to the alarm, he hits the snooze button. I snuggle up closer to him. His hands start roaming with gentle caresses that cause my belly to flutter with anticipation. His hand moves up to my hair as he brushes it from my neck. Gentle kisses to the back of my neck and I wiggle even closer to him. I lightly caress his arm, kissing the palm of his hand, nibbling on his finger, he moans. The alarm sounds again, silenced again by the snooze button. I mourn the loss of his hand on my body and moan with pleasure as he returns it. More touching, more playing, and then time has become our enemy. I must get up and go to work. We reluctantly part and being the day.

So now I sit here, at my desk, surrounded by the mundane, with thoughts of his touch, the anticipation still fluttering in my belly, his scent still on my skin, thinking about tonight and setting the alarm to go off even earlier tomorrow.