Chapter one: Awakening
His eyes flashed open, torn from sleep, to the phone's vibrations. Every morning. He was not late for work. He would never be late for work again. He was neither in danger of missing any appointments nor was he at risk of letting any deadlines lapse. The phone's “silent” vibrating alarm did not buzz for him, but it shattered his sleep just the same, the quaking burst of vibrations under the adjacent pillow always jolted him awake, his sleeping brain bracing for cataclysm. He quickly found his breath again as his mind settled from instinctive fear to the mundane source of the rumbling. Much of his world now lacked subtly in this way.
Six buzzes later she stirred. A slow exhale, a low hum at the unseen stretch of sleepy limbs under heavy rustling blankets. A practiced hand slipped under the pillow beneath her head and silenced the alarm. Ten more minutes. Her cycle would repeat at least once more before she roused. His would not. The low hum of her wordless voice drifted towards speech as she got comfortable again under the covers. “Good morning,” she breathed, gently wriggling under the covers to lie facing him, her eyes still closed.
Their mornings were filled with practiced rituals, soft and warm. He knew this cue well. He stretched his limbs away from him and felt the weight of consciousness return to his form. “Good morning,” he yawned, picking himself up and stepping towards her, untangling himself from the cocoon of his plush brown blanket. The pillow-top mattress pushed gently at his feet, giving him a sensation of bounding slightly in her direction. He sank back down and she opened her arms to his approach. She drew him in against her, crooking him along her chest. He nestled his face against the warmth above her collarbone, his body taking in the steady drum of her heart as he breathed in the sweet, soft musk of her sleep. A wave of heat, trapped overnight by body and blanket, escaped to wash over him as she settled around him.
“Ten more minutes,” she slurred, nodding to kiss the top of his head. He pushed up against the soft weight of her lips in silent assent, felt the heat of her breath wash across his face and the slight catch as her mouth pulled back from his head. He cuddled into her and kissed gently at her throat. He felt the muscles in her neck work a swallow, pulling and lifting, as goosebumps rose away from his kiss and she nuzzled back into her pillow. Her arms brought him in tighter, thumb idly stroking his hair, as she settled in to steal a few more minutes of sleep.
He lay there, drunkenly basking in the vastness of her embrace. She still stroked at his head, sleep reducing previous pets to something more closely resembling a recursive twitch, fingers drifting ghostlike from his scalp to his shoulders. She cupped his body loosely in her left hand, cuddling him against her chest and neck. The rhythms of her slowing touches and the wavelike cascade of her breathing body under him set him adrift in meditative warmth. He still felt her heartbeat – the only sound in the room besides her breathing – kicking against his hips through her chest.
His eyelids were heavy. He was warm in her arms, pressed on all sides by her sleeping hug. He did not allow himself to drift back towards sleep. She had delayed the start of her day, but he knew his had already begun. He tilted his head up, feeling the cool air of the room against his face as he pulled back from her skin. Her jawline rose above him, her cheekbones peaking beyond and her eyes closed. This angle cast sharp lines of her features, and he found so much serenity in the intimacy of the view. He looked down. He was pressed against the black t-shirt she had slept in for the past four nights. The sheets smelled of the lavender mix she sprayed into the sheets as she made the bed each morning, but he could smell her on the fabric of the worn shirt. Floral wisps above an earthy base, touched by the sweetness of sweat. A sprawling ocean of bedding surrounded them, all down comforters and heavy, worn quilts, piled high to keep out winter's touch. They were pulled up, just above her breasts, leaving only his head outside of their weight. He could barely see beyond them.
He focused on his breathing; he focused on hers. Hers he rode as waves: the pressure of his body against hers waxed and waned as her rising chest erased the space between the soft wall of shirt and breasts and the resisting steadiness of her arms. The heat and the embrace at this scale had been claustrophobic at first, but the weeks had replaced frustrations of immobility with comfortable complacency. He found himself feeling safer, more at ease in these moments than any other points throughout his day, and wondered at how quickly and deeply that transition had taken root.
Ten minutes had passed. The second alarm was not so startling as the first. His waking mind was ready for it. The hand that had minutes ago stopped petting him shot under the pillow, the process pinning him tightly against her. He rolled into her along the motion of her arm, his face pressed into the collar of her shirt. The pressure was intense, but fleeting, and the buzzing stopped as her hand returned to him. She shifted her weight, exhaling a sigh, slow and deep, as she wriggled her shoulders and propped broad, white pillows against the headboard. The hand that held him to her cupped his backside, maintaining his position as she adjusted herself. When she was comfortably inclined, her shoulders climbing up her pillow, she let go of him.
He lifted himself slightly away from her, hands pressing into her shirt and sternum as he looked toward her face, awaiting what came next. He was naked, and in the absence of her hand he felt the crisp air of the room to wash over him. He resisted a shiver, shoulders locking briefly as he focused beneath him, legs still warm against the cotton where he had been held to her. Her hand came back to him, descending from above. Her long fingers curled around his midsection. He shuddered slightly at the sliding touch of her fingertips against his stomach. Her grip tensed against him, fingers stiffening around him. She began to lift her arm.
He rose slowly above her, his elbows to his sides and his hands on her index finger around his chest, holding tightly to her. His stomach tingled as he rose. It was a strange sensation to be lifted in this way, not unlike the tickling feeling of driving over dips in the road, though this was something deeper, more drawn out. She was practiced now, the speed and incline refined over the past six weeks. She lifted a sleepy eyelid and her lips pressed together as she sighed through her nose, watching as he rose in her hand.
She brought him only a few inches above her. The ascent stopped as she slowly drew him away from his den atop her. She brought her hand back down, lowering him to barely graze the flesh of her stomach under her shirt as she brought him along her. She deposited him before her chest, lying prostrate on the firm floor of her stomach. Her hand withdrew. He was under her shirt now, the rising slopes of her breasts illuminated by shirt-filtered morning haze.
A phantom of her hand's weight returned to him, through the shirt this time, guiding him towards her left breast. He was already in motion. He crawled to her, gathering and gently lifting at her in something like a bearhug. He took her nipple into his mouth, feeling her sharp inhale rise up from below him as much as he heard it. He worked his tongue around her stiffening nipple as it rose away from the even round of her areola, itself growing flecked with goosebumps. Her hand held more firmly now, bringing him into the softness of her body as the motions of her breathing deepened. He slacked his jaw to take more of her into his mouth, working its meager length with his lips held firm, rolling his tongue in flat circles around its tip and column.
It grew stifling between body and shirt. Her arm had pushed her other breast towards him, erasing the valley between them as her fingers began to swirl between her legs. Her heart beat like thunder beneath him, her airy breaths gaining weight and carrying the occasional stray muttering hum. The world around him shuddered when his teeth grazed her flesh, soft teasing bites as her hand returned under her shirt.
Her fingers traced delicate swirls around his legs and torso as she found him, padding playfully at his erection and grazing a firm touch along the back of his thighs and ass. He felt a dull, aching throb awaken in him then, and realized that he had been grinding his hips into her as he kissed and sucked. Her fingers were locking around him now, but she did not raise him as she moved him to her other breast. She dragged him along her to his next destination and he felt the textural transitions between breast tissue and sternum, back to breast, with the whole of his body. His feet swept without protest across her stomach, and the pulse of a twitch rippled out from under him as they neared and parted from her navel. Her hand left him at that second altar, and he resumed his work, taking another stiffening nipple into his mouth, losing himself on that warm plane of her as he worked his hips against her.
She rose and fell beneath him as her breathing quickened. He matched the pace and ferocity of his work to her accelerating excitement. A sudden pitch of her body came as she lifted her hips up from the mattress. He felt her stomach rise against him as her knees drew up, and held himself in place as her arms rapidly snapped at her underwear. It was difficult for him to maintain the rhythm he had established as she wriggled free of them, but it didn't matter. A few seconds later her bare hips crashed back down to the bed. The force of the drop almost sent him sprawling, her saliva-slick areola absorbing the shock of his face's impact.
He had barely righted himself when he felt her shirt lift from his back again, a sure sign her hand was back for his final cue. He was placing small, sweet kisses on and around her nipple when he felt two fingers and a thumb lock around his left knee. He continued planting kisses, sweeping his tongue against her as she slowly dragged him off of her chest and down her stomach. She slid him along her center and he passed over her navel, where the soft bristles of her gathering fuzz tickled at him. He playfully sucked and licked her as he passed, relishing at the trail of goosebumps he left in his wake.
His hand found the curve of her navel. He held fast, letting her hand catch at his sudden resistance. This, too, was a practiced game by now. He pushed against her stomach, climb-sliding his way back up her torso, kissing at her and running his arms in great sweeping motions, barely grazing her skin. She was so easy to tease here. Her abdominal muscles contracted under him at his touch, rippling beneath the surface of her soft stomach. She walked her index and middle fingers up him, starting at his feet, again gently pressing at his buttocks, driving his hips into her, and then at his shoulders they swept down the front of his body in a single stroke, carrying him the rest of the way down her.
Her hand left him as he slid over the slope of her mons pubis, accelerating slightly as he relaxed his body and let gravity take him home. He landed on his back, legs splayed up the front of her, and took in the sight.
Her thighs rose above him – strong, pale towers framing her center. He brought his legs under him and rose to his knees. He could nearly touch the tops of her knees if he stood like this, and from this vantage his eyes rose almost perfectly parallel to her clitoris. He shuffled closer to her. She was wet. He breathed in her earthy musk as he ran either arm up towards her mons, reaching outwards as if to grab around at her ass, anchoring himself to her. Her hands were nearby; one traced slight, lopsided shapes against the inside of her left thigh, the other fixed atop her right knee, drumming in anticipating vigilance.
Her sleepy, heavy eyes opened to meet his then. Slightly. Another sharp intake of breath, her front teeth gripping at her bottom lip. Her hips rose and fell again, and for a moment he lost sight of yearning lips for another. Then she was back. He smiled at her and lifted himself by his arms, still reaching for her hips, raising himself against her labia. His head and chest sank slightly into the warmth of her folds. His head had pressed towards her hood; he lifted it with the motion of looking up, rising slightly and taking her into his mouth. She lifted her hips involuntarily as he began suckling firmly at her clit. The yawning rhythms of her gyrating hips carried him against her, and he drifted along her tide, sliding bodily against her labia, pressed hard to her.
He let his hold slip, returning his weight to his knees and sank slightly back into the pillow-top. He could still easily reach her clit there, kissing and swirling his small tongue against it in hungry, circular motions. His arms, no longer holding him to her, traced along her lips, pressing and teasing against her; working vertically along her. He felt that aching throb from before, deep and primal now, a pulsing pressure gathering at the head of his erection. Her hand found him and she pushed him to her, fingertips forming a seat for him, driving him repeatedly against, up, into, and along her.
He stole his oxygen when he could. The weight of her hand behind him grew, driving him harder and deeper against her. He kissed and licked frantically, sucking in breaths and swallowing her excitement in alternating mouthfuls. She worked him along her, the storm of her arousal gathering fury, exchanging for him fewer tastes of air for tastes of her. His mind wandered from her – briefly – and he wondered if he'd suffocate against her. He found air then, and returned to her. He noticed a raw, tingling sensitivity at his groin. He had cum in the storm.
She released him suddenly, and he fell, soaked and dazed, back to the mattress. The hand that had held him was dipping and twirling against her clit. Her other hand found him gently, her nails ran flat and cool against his back, ushering him back to her. He thrust forwards, headfirst, and found himself shoulder deep inside of her. She piqued again at his entry, a low moan escaping her, and her nails again ran down him. He worked his legs to drive himself into her, trying to simulate the rhythm of a full-scale partner's penis with the whole of his body.
Her fingers playfully fondled between his legs as she closed her hand around his legs. She worked him slightly deeper and upwards into her for a moment, and then began driving him back and forth, in and out. He brought his arms away from him at an angle, allowing some air to slip in as she used him. He gulped frantically at it when he felt its cool touch. Her pulse slammed around him. He felt the motions of her other hand above him, steadily working towards her climax. He could hear her voice, though he heard it from inside of her now, all vague vowel sounds and muffled drawl. He was a part of this process, but no longer partner to it, and he gave in to the ride. The velvet walls around him intermittently hugged and throttled him, gripping from all sides as she worked him.
Her hips rose high this time, her body and thighs aligning as the waves of an ecstatic finish quickened inside of her. She collapsed around him, a crushing, rolling series of contracting muscles as she came. He was entombed in her from the waist up, awash in her fluids. He licked and lapped greedily, sucking, kissing, and wriggling, hoping to draw out the experience for her. Her hands left him, his feet dangling outside of her as she continued to play at her clit. Her legs closed tight around him, further constricting him inside her as his legs vanished in the plushy vice of her thighs. She squeezed him there, hugging him hard from inside, before relaxing and lowering herself back to the mattress.
She grasped his legs again and drew him out of her. He emerged from her, drenched body shocked by cold air, and found himself soaring over her. She held him by the legs, his arms dangling before him as he watched her passing bodyscape below him. Where she had teased herself with his slow descent before, she tore him towards her now at a dizzying speed.
His stomach met her tongue in a wet jolt, and she dragged him against it, wrapping her lips around his exhausted body. She sucked at him, pulling her cum from him, tasting herself and washing him at once. Her tongue explored him completely, curling between his legs and probing at his ass, working around his torso and down his arms. She tasted herself on every inch of him. She sated her thirst at his head, parting her lips slightly as he entered. He was enveloped again, her full lips passing around him on all sides, her gentle, relentless tongue working his face over, pausing now and again to let its warm weight fall over him.
She slid him out of her with a slight sucking pop, her tongue following him out for a farewell caress. She turned him upright and set him down astride her mouth. His hands wound into the frizzy dark hair around her temples, his knees ran along her cheeks, feet upon the pillow she had sunken back into. His body, utterly spent moments before, awakened at the touch of her wide, flat tongue, her soft lips parted to permit him entry. She sucked gently at him, periodically working saliva back towards him and then swallowing, churning him, pressing at his cock and balls. Her tongue ran up his left thigh, finding his balls and working backwards, pressing at his ass. Her eyes – huge brown pools before him – were fixed on his. He rode her like this, the motions of her tongue and lips guiding the rhythm of his hips. Her face held a deep flush, pink and red contrasts against her pale face. His back arched as he moaned, his exhaustion forgotten.
She took him in both hands then, easing him against one palm as the other scooped his legs and took him away from her mouth. She rose, back sliding up the headboard, and she laid him between her legs again. Her legs no longer towered above him, but settled into encircling walls around him as she found a comfortable sitting position. The heel of her left foot came at him slowly, and he shifted back and into it, straddling slightly the ball of her foot as the back of his head found the pads of her toes. Her right foot rose above him.
She was coiled around him like a serpent, limbs crossing in and out of his vision. He looked up at her, along the creases of her stomach, up past her breasts, to her sleepy, smiling eyes. She lowered her foot onto him slowly, shifting slightly to the side to flatten her left sole and sandwich him between them. Her right heel was raised, her toes playfully jostling at his shoulders. He reached out for them with one hand, working between them, guiding the pads over his face, kissing deliriously. His other hand fixed around his erection and pumped furiously. He came quickly, lost amid the heady odor of her feet, the contrast of soft sole and gentle scratch of callous. His semen spread across the heel of her right foot. She pulled it back from him then, licking the small wet spot away, offering a profoundly distracting view of her contorting midsection in the process. Her foot came back to him, carrying with it the familiar scent of her spit, and pressed against him a moment longer.
Her left foot tilted then, and he was deposited back onto the mattress. She swung her right leg over him and he heard it thud against the rug. She rose away from the bed. He watched from the mattress as she rose above him, her shapely ass mostly disappearing under black shirt as she rose upright. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of her.
She looked down at him groggily and smiled.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning.”