A W A K E N I N G . . .
Early morning. The cloak of darkness gradually yields to daybreak's faint paleness, edging away the dimness. The magic dawning of light overtakes the lingering beauties of the night. Slowly opening my sleep heavy eyelids from slumber, I attempt to get a frame of reference to orient my being with these strange surroundings. Where am I??? The question jumps into mind. I'm not in my usual waking position—this isn’t my bed!!! Where am I really???
My head isn't resting on my big soft feathered pillows, and I'm at an odd angle on this strange bed. Most likely a mis-construed placement of my body from having fallen into an exhausted sleep after a long playful night of enjoyment. In the tranquil gray morning light, my vision clears and slowly comes into focus, and I'm looking directly into a dark curly mass, nestled between creamy smooth inclines. My head is resting peacefully upon the lustrous inner slope of a lady's lovely parted upper thigh, and I inhale the glorious fragrance of a woman. So alluring to my waking senses.
I'm in a warm mellow space, my groggy mind plays thoughts of maybe drifting back into sleep—close my eyes and just drift nice and easy back into the cradle of restful slumber; or maybe I’ll come slowly awake and get into the needful doings of this new day. Apart from lifting sleep laden eyelids, I haven't moved, nor has she. So still she lays, in hopefully blissful sleep, enhanced by our prolonged couplings from a mere few hours before. By the dawning light, I see the wondrous folds of her womanhood right before my eyes. I gaze upon the pure simple beauty of her fabulous hidden wrinkles. I know how upper face wrinkles are perceived by society, and about all those vain efforts to conceal those earned mile markers left by life experiences from bygone times. These perfect pubic pleats appear ageless, and so invitingly arranged in a welcoming smile. Ah, yes, such an amazing sight to behold upon awakening. Yes, this is indeed a very rare insightful view of her usually concealed treasure of womanly delights.
Playing youthful games of "You show me yours, and I'll show you mine", come smiling into mind. Quick fleeting glimpses, shared long ago by curious little girls and boys. Forbidden looks, when neither knew what we were seeing through the innocent eyes from an unknowing time. Now, decades later, I’m relishing a prolonged up-close view into yet another private jewelry box. Still curious, even with the benefits of being an experienced looker, etc. There are lots of variations in the special smiles those hidden lips convey. However, they never have the frown of a sour-puss, at least not those lips I've come to know. These lips almost always form a naturally knowing smile, but you need to look closely to see their beckoning welcome. And you clearly need to be very near, to hear the silent greetings these lips will so sincerely utter, to those who bring a listening ear. Purrring . . . Oh yes, such glorious lips of tingling treasures, I've helped spread them into joyous smiles in various ways. Each pair of lips is special, with cherished memories of those beauties as they were shared and known by me once upon a time. Now those variety of lips in my memory, all flow together into a blended composite art form that’s representational of the kaleidoscopic personification of all womanhood right here in my face.
The possibility of returning to sleep diminishes for me, because the allure of her slumbering eroticism is so arousing. So near, just beneath my nose. I feel the first stirrings of my soft maleness, leaving passive limpness, as an awakening erection is growing—another part of me wakes. With her luscious lips so near, only an extended tongue touch away, there's a primal urging waiting to surge into action. Oh my, they are indeed very exquisite lips—so tempting, so inviting, so dear, so very near. Remembering our savory blend of tasty flavors, as I’m recalling more remembrances from our lustful night of sharing erotic passions. Those visions are now mindflows with me. And I recall her sharing with me, her once upon a time fantasy, now in the reality of her recently fulfilled desires, about how she wanted to drift into her exhausted sleep with my head resting so nicely between her open legs. Just like my head still is.
Yes, that’s how I came to have my head still nestled between her open thighs. I wonder if she is perhaps enjoying an erotic dream of her recollected knowings from our sensual flows??? Should I awaken her from her joys of spiritual dreamscapes with a passionate kiss upon those exquisite lips??? Oh my, so invitingly near, as I mentally measure the mere extension of my tongue's reach away. Briefly, I ponder the merits of repositioning myself to permit my ponderously growing hardness to slide between her waiting smooth lips. Oh no, my repositioning movements would certainly be an abrupt intrusion into her silently sleeping place. I’d assuredly startle her awake!!! Indeed, the fortuitous position of my mouth, so close to her alluring lips, is the most direct approach to salaciously follow for gently awakening her from her peaceful sleep. She moved!!!
What was that motion??? Did she just move??? Was there the slightest bit of movement from her just now??? The merest hint of a stirring quiver in her sleep??? I’m sure she moved!!! Or was it nothing more, than seeing with my eyes, what my mind hoped to see—a clue as to how to bring her awake now. But there doesn’t seem to be a hint of movement!!! Unless, she's enjoying a wonderfully wet dream. Now this wet dream thought, has some positive possibilities, and such a dreamfully enjoying hedonistic spirit, could perhaps gleefully engage her earthly being as well. Yes, women have wet dreams too!!!
Then it is possible, yes, really likely, that she is already very wet and wanting me deep inside her right there, in the here and now. From what I can see of her, I can't tell if she's excited in a wet way, because her secretly smiling lips tell no tales of her wetness. Cocks, by their natural need to swell with pride and crow, are so clearly apparent when turned-on. Her soundless sleeping pussy gives me naught a single purr of a glimmering hint. Nope, my perfectly delightful thigh-high perspective yields no trace as to the possible moistened state of her readiness, and I'm unsure now about how to know for sure by just looking. Ah, let’s see . . . I need a clue . . . do I look for lip gloss???