Sex In The Morning

The longer days are becoming really noticeable now. Despite the frost on the cars on recent mornings spring is definitely here. If you don’t live at high latitudes you’ll not appreciate the difference the time of year makes to day length. In most of mainland UK it’s not as pronounced as in Scandinavian countries and to the North of the Artic Circle, but the large increase in daylight hours in the summer makes a dramatic change to people’s behaviour.

I find it easier to get up in a morning and seem to have more energy.

And on the subject of being up in a morning and having lots of energy … Yesterday morning I woke up with a monster tent pole. I rolled over to cuddle Suze before the alarm had chance to remind me it was a work day and poked her in the back with it. She woke from a light sleep with a pleasantly surprised “Oooh!”.

That’s a good start to a day. I slid inside her and we spooned for a few minutes, our hips gyrating against one another. We were warm and comfortable under the quilt, alone together, bodies and minds connected. Utter bliss.

The bedroom was bathed in a yellow glow from the intense sunlight streaming through the curtains. Time seemed to expand and the clock, which I expected to interrupt us at any moment with a jarring chirp, seemed reluctant to count the seconds.

Our bodies seemed to melt together, the physical boundaries defined by our skin disappearing and becoming irrelevant as we both approached a soft, prolonged climax. We experienced orgasms that seemed to extend out to infinity before us as we gently groaned our fulfilment.

Then we dozed off, for what might only have been a minute or so, our bodies still one until time accelerated again and the alarm clock heralded the return to normality. The world outside metaphorically tapping its wristwatch with a fixing me with its disapproving stare until I chose to emerge from my peaceful cocoon and make myself some breakfast.