Sunrise
The sun is blinding in the mornings, because the window in Marc's
bedroom faces due east. He refuses to put more than a sheer curtain
over it, because he loves to watch the sunrise, and without drapes,
he can see it from his place on the mattress. Most days I'll just
pull the blankets over my head and sleep through it, but today I've
decided to stay awake with him. I'm curious to see what fascinates
him so much about it.
"Good morning," Marc mumbles when he notices I'm conscious. His eyes
are riveted to the window, his attention intent on the part of the
sky that's lightening from blue and purple to pink and red. It seems
to mystify him, and I have to force myself to watch the sunrise, not
him.
After a few long moments of comfortable silence, I see a glimmer of
gold on the edge of the horizon. The dot turns into a line, and then
an arc, then a half-circle, a deep shade of orange-red peeking up
from behind distant treetops. It's over much faster than I would have
expected, and soon the sun is full and warm and hanging alone in the
sky; not even any of the pinkish clouds dare to come close to it. I
can't stop the awed sigh that escapes my lips, and Marc laughs
softly.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" he says softly, curling on his side to face me.
"Mmmhmm," I murmur, sliding closer to him and tangling my legs with
his. "But you watch it every morning. Doesn't it get...boring? Seeing
the same thing over and over?"
One of his eyebrows cocks for a second, and he shakes his head
slowly, silently. He leans close, pressing his lips to mine, sliding
one hand up into my hair. The sleepy haze I'd felt a heartbeat before
dissipates, and a strong alertness shoots through me, sending heat
rushing towards my groin. Insanely early or not, I'm in bed with a
beautiful, beautiful man, a man who I am madly in love with, a man
who currently has his tongue tracing over my lips.
He rolls on top of me, the entire length of his body pressing down on
mine. My focus, though, is primarily on the thick shaft prodding at
my hip. I grind up against him, coaxing a soft, accented curse from
him, and I grin, loving the sound of his voice.
His hands mold to my shoulders, then rub down my arms and back up,
and then stroke over my chest and stomach, making me shiver from the
pleasure of it. His teeth nip at my lower lip, my jaw, my neck, my
earlobe, and then he whispers my name, sending any remaining blood in
my body immediately south.
"Jody," he murmurs again, and this time his hand starts working its
way down my chest, pinching at one nipple, then the other, making me
gasp and arch into his touch. His hands keep moving, pausing to
squeeze at my hips before his fingers curl around my dick, holding it
just tight enough to make me growl out an expletive. With his free
hand, he reaches for the bottle on the bedside table, and then he
pours a bit onto the head of his cock, and I watch, transfixed, as
his fingers stroke the lube along his shaft.
Without thinking, I wrap my legs around his hips, searching blindly
for the pleasure I know I'll feel once he's inside me. He kisses me
softly, positioning himself carefully before thrusting into me, one
long, smooth movement that makes both of us moan. I clench around him
when I'm ready, and he withdraws, then pushes back, starting slowly,
but speeding a bit with the pace of his breathing. The rhythm is
familiar, comfortable, but it never ceases to make my heart race and
my head spin. As the speed increases, I tighten my legs around him,
trying to hold him inside me, wincing when he bites at my shoulder.
The sun, brightening to glorious yellow as it gets further and
further from the horizon, is the last thing I see before I squeeze my
eyes shut, moaning Marc's name as I come, faintly registering the
heat exploding inside me a moment later. He collapses against me and
I bury my face against him, his pulse racing just below the soft,
slick skin of his neck. Eventually our breathing evens out and our
hearts slow down, and then he sits up to look at me.
"How many times have we done that since we've been together?" he
asks, and I arch an eyebrow, not sure where the question came from.
"Um...a lot?" I reply curiously.
He nods slowly, "Is that ever boring? Does that ever get old?"
I smile and kiss him, understanding finally dawning on me. "Never," I
whisper, and decide that I'm going to watch the sunrise with him
again tomorrow.
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