Morning Wood and Sweet Sweet Lovemaking

This morning I woke up to her moving around the room, getting ready for her day. Her robe was hanging open just enough that I caught teasing flashes of her body… smooth skin, the curve of her hips, those black lace panties hugging her perfectly. Her short blonde hair was messy from sleep but somehow still made her look stupidly gorgeous.

I was already rock hard — morning wood, sure, but now it ached. I watched her for a bit, just soaking in the view, until she walked close enough that I reached out and grabbed her thigh.

She paused, looked down at me with this wicked little grin, and said, “Well… morning, Mr. Wood,” biting her lip when her eyes caught the shape of me tenting under the covers.

I grinned back, about to say something stupid, but she didn’t wait. She just climbed on top of me, straddling me without a word, settling her weight right on my cock. The heat of her through those panties sent a jolt straight to my spine.

She started grinding, slow… deliberate. Her eyes locked on mine like she owned me. Then, casually, she let her robe slip down her shoulders and fall away. Her hands slid up to her chest, fingers tracing her breasts — perfect, soft, 32B curves that fit my hands like they were made for it. I couldn’t help it. I cupped them, thumbs brushing over her nipples as she let out this breathy little moan.

“God, you’re beautiful,” I muttered.

She just smiled, biting her lip again as she lifted her hips, tugged her panties to the side with one hand, and freed me with the other. Her fingers wrapped around me, guiding me exactly where she wanted.

That first moment — that slow, perfect slide as she sank down onto me — it always makes me lose my breath. Tight, warm, slick… heaven. Absolute heaven.

She started moving, slow at first, hips rolling in that way she knows drives me insane. Up… down… forward… back… this rhythm that’s lazy but controlled, like she’s savoring every inch of me. Even though she’s always so elegant, so classy… moments like this remind me there’s a filthy little pornstar hiding under that polished surface — and she’s mine. Only mine.

My hands slid down to her hips, helping guide her motion as she picked up the pace. Her breathing started to hitch, little gasps mixed with those soft moans that make me obsessed with her. Faster now… her nails dug into my chest for leverage, her thighs trembling against me.

“Fuck… babe…” I groaned, barely holding on as I felt her body tense. Her walls started fluttering around me, that unmistakable clench that means she’s right on the edge — and fuck, so was I.

“Don’t stop…” she whispered, voice shaking.

Neither of us could. She rode me hard, hips slamming down, breath ragged, and then — oh god — we tipped right over together. Her whole body shook as she came, squeezing me tight, moaning into my neck as I spilled deep inside her, groaning like an animal, hips bucking uncontrollably.

She collapsed on me, skin hot and sticky, breath warm against my collarbone. I wrapped my arms around her, fingers trailing up her bare back, just holding her, still buried inside, both of us shaking and laughing softly between the aftershocks.

Mornings like this… fuck, man. I swear… I’m the luckiest guy alive.