The wind pushed the curtains. 

Dust swirled in the morning light. She snored, lightly. It sounded sweet. Endearing.
My head hurt. Clobbered my brain into submission. Sticky eyelids fighting to open and close. 
_“Make up your mind, mind. Is this day about to start?”_ 
Sundays can be in limbo. 

“Fuck. Coffee.” She muttered in a somewhat hoarse voice, lovely shutters still closed. 
_“Look at that face. Deceiving innocence. I should’ve known better.” _ 
I hoisted my body out of bed, scratched my left buttock. Morning wood swaying in my boxer briefs.
“Alright, I’ll sacrifice myself.”  
Four hours, a little on the short side. Didn’t even dream. The world felt like a mirage nonetheless.
_“Is she here?”_  
Talk about musing. Twice. 
_“She is all the songs about all those things, come to life.”_  
I tire myself at times. Enough with the hymns already. 

Waiting for the machine to heat up, I stretched and yawned. Cupped my balls for the sake of it. Two spoons of freshly ground. 
A blessing for the night owl, a curse for the bon vivant. Moderation, my ass. Same goes for alcohol, apparently. 
_“One sugar for her. Sweet tooth, I’ll take two. Screw the purists. Life is bitter enough as it is. Stir.” _ 

A flood of late winter sun bleached the back of my skull. It had a sound to it, not a nice one. Squinting for survival. The neighbor scurried hurryingly from her balcony. After a quick second peak, that is. 

The sheets crumpled at the foot of the bed. She was laying there like a classical painting. A sleeping Venus. One rosebud nipple poking through between her hand, resting sleepily. Hair tousled. My thick drowsy phallus went back to full erection at the sight of the shape of her mound, her pale skin. Luminescent, as poets tend to ruminate. 
I’ll admit it, I’m a sucker for that stuff. Bit of indie underground in there please, though. I like my faux-realities slightly raw and singed. 

“Aren’t you cold?” 
Her skin confirmed, she only grunted. She grabbed the glass of water on the nightstand, barely getting up. Her hazel eyes peered over the rim of the glass, looking at my bulge. A smile curled her lips, spilling the water in the shallow chalice of her clavicle. 
_“Sweet mother of god I love those eyes.”_ 

I put the coffee mug next to her. She grabbed my cock through my boxers, kneading it gently.
“Is he okay?” 
I chuckled. “Skin’s a bit tender. You monster. Show me some mercy sometimes.” 
“As I remember it, you didn’t protest at all.” 
_“No I did not.” _  
“No, I did not,” I said. “I had my mouth full.” 

She laughed. She had that clear mountain stream quality to her laugh. It danced in my chest. 
“Put that down.” 
She gestured at my cup. 
“Come here.” 
She reclined on the bed, smiled, opened her legs and held her breasts. 
“Come here, I’m not done with you yet.” 
A woman in charge of her wants is a life-affirming thing to behold. 

On hands and knees I loomed over her. My shadow didn’t cast over her face. The early sunlight lit up the green in her eyes like emeralds. 
_“Dumb, smitten boy.”_ I told myself off. 
My cock grazed along her inner thigh, I could feel the short stubble of her pubes brush against my balls as I moved upwards. Her posture was beyond inviting, her being felt close. I don’t know what that means, but it did. 
The tip of my cock kissed her pussy lips. She was already wet, her heat emanating towards me. Her fingers trailed their way down my torso, nails gently scraping my chest hair in circles. Leisurely, her hands caressed the inside of my legs next to my balls, behind them, wandering up to my shaft and then stopping to repeat. A glistening drop formed on the head. She wiped it up with her pinky and brought it to her mouth, putting it on the tip of her tongue. Her pupils dilated. 

“My turn.”
I kissed her neck. Her breasts. Her belly. I took one nipple between my teeth. Swirled my tongue around it softly. She arched her back. Her face turned into the messy pillows. 

I drank her. I drank her like sweet milk. My mouth made love to her pussy. Licking, kissing, sucking, nibbling. She pushed her hips towards my face and followed my rhythm, taking it over, begging for pressure, steering for angles. 

Her body tightened and released. Shaking. Trembling. Moaning. Grabbing my hair. All of it with bewildered fire. Pushing down onto my face, into herself. Majestic vulnerability. I could feel a burning, a pulsing in my cock, had to focus to hold back. 

“Fuck me.”
I obliged. Her smell was on my breath, she leaned in to taste. Without any friction I slid into her, easily. 
We switched. Her lean body on top of me. Slow, long movements of her blossoming pink, all the way up and down the length, taking me in. She buried her face in my neck, pressed her body against me. My hands grabbed her ass, my fingers reaching around her cheeks to feel the edge of her wet pussy move along my ribbed cock. 

“I want to see you come.” 
Sitting on her knees between my legs, her chestnut hair fell on my stomach. She jacked me off with her juices. It didn’t take long. Ropes of thick white oozed over her hands, spurts shooting on my upper body and my neck. She gasped with excitement and awe. 
“Look at that delicious dick.” 
Lights flashed before my eyes. Did I see a fucking rainbow? Holy fuck. 
Holy. 
Fuck. 

“I need some water.” 

She gulped back the entire glass and grinned. 

“So. Did you ever expect this?” 

“Ill-planned and well-executed.” I said, avoiding my confession. 

“We still friends?” 

“Yeah.” 

_“Just tell her already.” _ 

“Coffee?” 

“Sure. Two sugars.”