I Miss Fucking You

The Randy Pontiff

By Mishy

I miss seeing you naked, the feel of your skin. The way it responds to my touch. How you get jumpy when I go for your lower abdomen with my tongue. How you smell when you are turned on. How your meat leaps in joy at me every time I show up at its neck of the wood. The salty taste of your neck when you are on top of me. My tongue around your ear lobe as I whisper incoherent words into your ear. My graceful trip down south and how you draw my hair back as you watch me take you in whole.

I miss fucking you…

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Baby, it’s 4 a.m in the Morning…

Unlike the frantic perfomance sex that descends after a night on the town, morning sex is deliciously unpretentious, relaxing and slow.~D.K

The art of cuddling. That’s the title I wanted to give this post. Because last night I got hit by that bitch called insomnia and so I was up at 4.00 am thinking, about life, my blog and the art of cuddling.

Cuddling is an art, well to me at least. Laying on a guys chest as he rubs my back up and down doesn’t quite cut it for me. As in really, what do you think you are doing? Putting your cat to sleep?

But as I said before, that was where my head was at that particular moment. Until I started thinking about another kind of cuddling… The 4:00 am kind of cuddling, when the cold bites and the duvet is no longer warm enough. The kind of cuddling that has him groping in the sheets looking for you. Any part of your body he can reach first.

See, it is 4 in the morning. There is that need for body warmth before the light starts creeping in and it is time to get ready to go to work. And so he reaches out to you and he slides his hand oh-so-perfectly on your tummy. Within a fraction of second, he has you pulled right next to him. With your tush placed perfectly on his you-know-what.

Yes, it is 4 in the a.m and you are barely awake, well neither is he. But the moment your body connects with his, you know what’s up. And so you wiggle your behind closer and purrrrr. And his hand shifts slowly from your tummy…to your ribcage and up to your left boob which he proceeds to squeeze gently through that silky negligee you wore to bed last night.

“Sleep!” He commands softly.

But you are having none of that. So you wiggle some more and feel him stir. With your eyes closed still, you can feel him smiling at the back of your head. His warm, gentle breathing has all the hairs at the back of your neck at attention. And so you re-adjust your weave so that he can nuzzle your neck. He lifts your negligee a little bit so that he can have better access to your tummy and ass, his index finger drawing weird shapes round your navel.

You are like a dog with a bone now. You might be operating on your subconscious but your body is 50 shades of awake. The laziness, the lack of effort and hustle, the fact that it is a weird hour on a Wednesday morning has you turned on beyond belief.

So you take his hand and return it back to your girls helping him squeeze each at a time. Then you slowly shift his hand down to your rib cage, down to your navel, past your lower stomach and down to hello kitty. It is a flood down there, and it shocks him as much as it shocks you that you are that ready for him.

Now you have his attention, both him and his friend down there. Yeah, his friend has assumed position quite comfortably between your thighs. He’s stirring, protesting…wanting. And so he pulls his hand away from your hello kitty and grabs your hips. He aligns his body with yours and with one swift, fluid motion he is right where he needs to be.

“Baby, it is 4 in the morning,” he says softly.

“Yes, I know babe. Good Morning.”