Sunday, August 2, 2009

The Morning After (Baby, Can We Just Cuddle?)



By Unanimous

It was the morning after…
I ravaged her body. She had let me do any and every thing I wanted. My only mission was to please her so “any and every thing I wanted” was all that she desired. All that she needed.

It was the morning after…
Our mutually fulfilling endeavor had catapulted our erogenous zones to complete and utter bliss. Our bodies were blank canvases until we joined forces and created art in the dark with only a dimly lit candle to guide each stroke.

(

We.

Slept.

Together.

It was the morning after…
Her head lying in that familiar space on my chest, she found comfort in my embrace. My heartbeat was her lullaby carrying away all her worries. I found solace in the fact that she felt secure in her position.

Here.

Now.

With me.

It was the morning after…
When I awoke to find that during the course of our slumber, she had turned on to her side with her back now facing me. As the beams of sunlight protruded through the blinds and brushed up against my eyelids, I slowly emerged from the catatonic state her lovemaking had left me in.

It was the morning after…
When my eyes landed on the silhouette of her frame lying next to me completely naked. I was amazed by the beauty of this wondrous terrain before me that I traveled often but rarely took the time out to admire.

Forgotten.

Memories.

Return.

It was the morning after…
That I decided to re-familiarize myself. The sexy swoop of her spine was like a sunny valley. I wanted to take root in her abyss and run my fingers through her foliage. The inviting hook of her hipbone was like a peak. I wanted to climb to its apex and sing her praises for all to hear.

It was the morning after…
That I looked at her as if it were for the first time. Her cocoa complexion was like a sweet confection I wanted to consume whole. The downward slope of her bottom was complimented by this sublime split down its center that led to secret caverns I wished to explore once more.

Curiosity.

Possessed.

Me.

It was the morning after…
All I could do was cherish the moment. Here, in the quiet time between post-coital cuddling and pre-dawn dreams. When her hair blankets her shoulders like early morning snowfall and her steady intake of air is the only sound worth listening to.

It was the morning after…
When nothing else existed but us and she seemed most beautiful to me. Serene was the scene. Her warm body lay next to me in perfect stillness. I drew her closer and she instinctually fell back into that comfortable nook my lean frame created for her.

Familiar.

Welcome.

Home.

It was the morning after…
She drifted in and out of sleep. My embrace created an anchor for her and her presence gave me purpose. My hands grazed her side and found a rhythmic peace in the texture of her skin. I cupped her breasts. She arched her back. Our legs became interlocked.

It was the morning after…
I ravaged her body. Normally this would be the spark that lit last night’s blaze afire once again, but today and the new light it brings was not about that. This moment we shared was about so much more than instinct could explain. I simply tilted her head towards me and put everything in its proper perspective.

I.

Love.

You.

Can cuddling sometimes be better than sex? Or are you someone that hates to cuddle? Have you ever stared at your lover while he/she is sleeping? What runs through your mind in those quiet moments of reflection? Do you sleep in the nude after sex or one of those people that rushes to put your clothes on? Have you ever woken up next to someone in your bed you wish wasn’t? Is there anything better than spooning with someone on a lazy day?

Speak your piece…



props to nakedwithsockson.com

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