Hungry

This is may be a bit of a photo quickie. Maybe just a flash. I’ve had it kicking around for a while, part finished, because I realized I have a somewhat recurring theme in sleeping, and being awakened from sleep. A comment on an earlier short piece mentioned that we are all vulnerable and innocent in sleep – and often we look it. That must be part of the appeal. I do keep coming back to it. Not sure if this is really all that hot shit either, but I’ve been a bit dry for a while and I’m trying to crank into gear again. –M

Sometimes I just wake up hungry, y’know?

Like this morning. Actual physical pangs. And I knew there was only one thing that’d satisfy me.

You sleep so prettily, deeply. Even in the early morning, when the slightest bird-chirp will wake me.  It makes it easy to push apart – slowly –  your legs. In sleep you’re beautifully shameless, even wanton, you open so easily, your thighs parting to my hands’ gentle urging.

I did pause, you know, looking at your peace; eyes closed, face slack, unaware and brazenly exposed. Your cunt glistened with moisture, even though I hadn’t fucked you for entire hours.

Lowering my head to you, I inhaled your musk deeply – our mingled scents set my cock full and hard. I felt my lips curve into an anticipatory smile, the geometry of the immediate future a bright vector path connecting my tongue with your clit.

So hungry. That last couple inches of descent to your parted labia, I took so slow, salivating, barely breathing, my tongue leading, because once I reached you; once I got my first taste…

I devoured. My mouth descended, lips opening and closing on your soft flesh, voracious, starving, licking, sucking, nipping at you, immediately, mercilessly, not stopping, unable to stop, until you came, flooding my mouth and tongue. That was what I hungered for.

You woke quickly, then. Subtlety isn’t my strong suit at times like that, after all; nor care, nor secrecy. Your disorientation, the surge and undulation of your body as you roused to my assault; it was delicious. What were you dreaming before? If it were peaceful, languid, romantic… this wouldn’t have been the way you might have expected or wanted to wake up. If you’d fought a little, I had such a tight hold; you wouldn’t get away from me. Truth is, I might not have even noticed. Baser truth: it didn’t matter. If you wanted it, were surprised by it, not in the mood for it… you were going to come because its what I wanted, needed, and I knew I could do make you.

The sounds I made on you, in you – even I thought they were obscene;  slurping, sucking, smacking, growling. And your sounds, fed my ear as your cunt fed my mouth. I felt your hands in my hair pulling hard in almost random directions – trying to move me away, or draw me closer, or steer me to those spots you love. And yes, your legs opened further to me, raising of their own accord. No matter how it started, I brought you to that place. I tasted the change in you. God, it was so fucking delicious.

And in the end, with my face wet and shining with you, my tongue swirling over your clit, then digging deep, you gave me what I needed. Teeth bared against your flesh I fed on your come. You sated me. For now.

Pulling back, raising my head and looking to you, licking my lips, both of us panting, my smile came easy.

“What will you have for breakfast, love?”