Sunday Morning Surprise

The insistent chirping of the digital alarm clock ripped me from a dream of sun-drenched beaches and endless cocktails, a cruel reminder of the mundane reality awaiting me. It was 7:30 AM on a Sunday, the kind of day where the air hangs thick with the scent of freshly brewed coffee and the faint hope of a lazy afternoon. E was already in the living room, hunched over her laptop, lost in the digital world before our 8:30 service at St. Jude's. I stretched languidly, pulling the soft, worn cotton sheets over myself, a comfortable ritual that marked the beginning of another unremarkable Sunday. Lying on my back, I tried to fully awaken, letting the warmth of the morning sun seep into my skin, but the lingering tendrils of sleep clung stubbornly to my limbs.

A few minutes later, the soft padding of her slippers announced her approach. She knelt beside me, her presence both familiar and electrifying, without uttering a single word. I was dressed in my usual Sunday attire: a pair of loose-fitting, unbleached cotton shorts and a faded grey T-shirt, providing her with unrestricted access. Without hesitation, her hand began its work, a slow, deliberate massage that focused on my cock and testicles. Initially limp and unresponsive, they quickly began to swell with anticipation as her touch intensified. A slow, insistent pressure built within me, a primal urge that demanded release. Her fingers, cool and sensitive, slipped beneath my shorts, grazing the sensitive skin around my base, teasing me with the promise of pleasure. The cotton fabric strained and stretched, transforming into a taut, supportive tent, a physical manifestation of the rising heat within me.

She rose abruptly, discarding her own pale pink night T-shirt to reveal the exquisite curve of her breasts, perfectly formed and undeniably inviting. Simultaneously, she peeled off her shorts, revealing her smooth, tanned legs and a small, tasteful tattoo of a hummingbird on her ankle. As I gazed in bewildered awe, taking in the full extent of her nakedness, she moved with an effortless grace, climbing onto my chest and straddling my face. Her body pressed against mine, the scent of her lavender-infused lotion filling my nostrils. It was an intimate act, a blatant assertion of dominance, and I found myself utterly consumed by the sensation. She lowered herself further, her hips settling directly over my mouth, a tantalizing invitation that I couldn't resist.

Driven by an insatiable hunger, I lowered my head, my tongue instinctively seeking the depths of her glistening, perfectly shaved pussy. The initial exploration was gentle, a slow, methodical investigation that confirmed the intense arousal building within me. I circled her lips with my tongue, feeling the engorgement, the wetness, the sheer anticipation radiating from her. For a few moments, we remained locked in this sensual dance, her deep sighs punctuating the quiet intimacy. Then, she began to lower herself further, her body arching slightly, her breath coming in ragged gasps. I knew, without a doubt, that she desired to ride my tongue, and I readily obliged. I plunged my tongue deeper, feeling her muscles tense beneath my touch, responding to my every move. Her body shuddered with pleasure, her breath quickening as she bucked her hips, sending me tumbling onto the side of the couch. The feeling was incredible, a raw, visceral connection that bypassed the intellect and went straight to the core of my being.

I was prepared to let her grind away, to savor every moment of this passionate encounter, but she abruptly lifted herself off me, snatching the top of my shorts in a swift, decisive movement. In an instant, she straddled me again, her weight pressing down on my chest, one leg planted firmly on the couch, the other stretched out across my lap. My cock was fully erect, throbbing with anticipation, ready to meet her desires. She grabbed her favorite joystick, a sleek, black device crafted from silicone, and guided herself to slide down onto my face, her weight now focused entirely on my sensitive member. E took her time, savoring the anticipation, her movements deliberate and controlled. But as she continued, the pace gradually increased, transforming into a frenzied assault on my senses.

I lay on my back, watching her go to town, lost in the intoxicating pleasure of the moment. Lightly pinching and caressing her swollen nipples, I felt her moans of pleasure vibrating through my body, confirming her mounting excitement. She pounded me harder and harder, her movements becoming increasingly frantic, reaching underneath to play with my balls. Her moans intensified, laced with desperate pleas, a clear indication that she was nearing the brink of orgasm. The feel of her fingernails grasping at my scrotum was exquisite, a thrilling combination of pleasure and pain. I focused my muscles, tensing every fiber of my being, determined to hold out as long as possible, but the buildup was relentless, the anticipation almost unbearable.

As she continued her assault, her pelvis slammed against mine with increasing force, sending shivers down my spine. The heat intensified, the pressure mounted, and I knew, with a thrilling certainty, that I was on the verge of release. Then, with a final, desperate surge of energy, I exploded, my load releasing in a torrent of pure, unadulterated pleasure. The sensation was overwhelming, a primal release that left me breathless and trembling.

As she felt my release, she gasped, her body arching in response, her quivering form a testament to her intense pleasure. We remained locked in this passionate embrace for a few moments, caressing each other’s bodies as we slowly came down from our morning climax. The lingering heat and the scent of her perfume filled the room, a fragrant reminder of the incredible encounter we had just shared. It was an awesome way to start the day, a perfect blend of lust, desire, and uninhibited pleasure. As I lay there, catching my breath, I couldn't help but smile, knowing that this was just the beginning of a beautiful, unforgettable Sunday.

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