It was the morning after the night before. They lay in each other’s arms hot and sticky. Imperfect bodies showing the scars of life and life giving.
He woke first and traced words on her skin, words she would feel but never know. His fingers caressed and danced across her curves tracing each with desire. He found the nipple of a breast big enough and soft enough to suffocate him. Lapping, nibbling there, her hips started their gentle undulation.
When his fingers found her moisture-laden sheath, she began that beautiful song of unlimited pleasure as her hips finally collapsed.
