<<<<>>>> When I was first stirring it was the crack of dawn. Beside me, the bed was empty, warm but empty. I rolled over, sleepily still, in search of the wonderful man who had brought me here last night, and he was gone. I discovered as I came to that hugging the pillow instead simply wasn't solace enough, and I opened my eyes to look for him. The room was just beginning to warm--there was a soft breeze coming through the windows and the lace curtains sighed gently. Going to be another hot day, I thought, but where's Larry? I listened, and there wasn't a sound. Just the warmth and the musk scent of the sheets. This wouldn't do! I'm not even sure where this apartment is, I've no car, here it is 6:00 or some ungodly hour Sunday morning, and I'm alone in a strange bed. Well, not totally strange...the champagne bottle in the bucket looked familiar... Then I heard a rasp from just outside the window, on the porch, and saw the shadows change. Larry? or a cat? I reluctantly abandoned the warmth of the covers and fumbled for a robe I remembered being somewhere in the bedroom. A very light, full length cotton number, but enough so that at least I could step outside and be seen as decent. Wanton, perhaps, but decently dressed. There was Larry, dressed in a pair of boxers only. Gorgeous, muscular legs came out the bottom, and this very well- built chest was above. On top, an aquiline face was squinting at the sunrise. I stepped behind and rested my chin on his shoulder. "Watcha thinking, Larry?" "Dunno, just seemed the thing to do right now." "Wanna come back to bed with me? Are you waiting for anything?" "Naw, just maybe the sunrise." "Can I wait with you?" "Sure, let's sit on the sofa." With that, we sort of fell onto an old, white wicker loveseat he had on the porch. I curled up, head on his lap, and began to drift off to sleep again. His hand went to my waist and I waited for the sun to warm us. The sun was a long time coming, and I curled up even tighter. His hand went to my butt and sort of snuggled me into a comfortable position; I relaxed and was back asleep, very secure. In a few minutes, though, he was moving again. "Coffee?" "Uh, sure, so early?" "Can't watch the sun rise without coffee!" He was gone in an instant to the kitchen and I heard the pots rattling. It wasn't yet really warm, so when he came back I must've jumped right onto him. I was sitting across his legs, cupping the coffee cup and lazing against his shoulder with my legs pulled up close. "Larry, wanna screw?" "Yeah, maybe, but let me wake up first." "Larry, it's better when you're waking up. Haven't you ever awakened already linked to someone?" He shrugged, but I noted that the boxers had a new bulge in them. I put my hand there and confirmed that it wasn't just he fold of the fabric. "Larry, it feels to me like you're ready now." I was whispering, but don't know why. No one on the block was stirring. We had the world to ourselves. His fly was gaping, so I slipped my hand inside; Larry put his cup down and then took mine away from me. "Here?" he said. "Sure," I purred. He took his hand from my waist and moved it to my breast, but outside the robe. My other hand was pinned against his chest, so I had to release his manhood to move his hand inside the robe. He was beginning to get the idea! I felt a warm, coarse hand gently massage my left boob, then brush the nipple, then cup me like the balmy Sunday morning this was. He wasn't rushing things, and neither was I. I looked up from my chest and saw him smiling at me. I leaned over and gave him the first kiss of the morning. Gentle, not even probing, just a kiss. He returned it the same way. "Larry?" "Mmmm?" "The champagne would have been better than the coffee..." "OK, I'll remember. You didn't get too wired yet, did you?" "Lemme show you. Come here." A gentle squeeze and I had his full attention, his mind and his heart following, as the expression goes. In fact, all I ever really wanted was a thousand percent of his attention. I really get jealous Sunday mornings. Jealous of the rest of the day, jealous of the telephone, jealous even of the sunrise. Mornings are meant for me and a friend, with no interruptions. I think he was beginning to understand, but I had to know. "Why'd you get up so early?" "I'm not used to someone who sleeps like you...it felt too good...has anyone ever told you how easy it is to share a bed with you? And I don't mean just sexually--just that you snuggle right in and at the same time don't push. I'm not used to that, and I guess I'm afraid of losing it." "Larry, I'm here now. Tomorrow is tomorrow; even this afternoon is later. Right now, I'm here. I want you to be, too." He was caressing my nipple, now, and I was squeezing him every once in a while, just to remind him how very "there" I was. Last night, he had really moaned when I tongued his ears. I tried again, a bit of a stretch for my neck from where I was sitting, but he just leaned right into me as I licked; I got the same reaction. Gee, was Larry's middle name Pavlov? I stretched my legs out onto the sofa, and let the robe gap. When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was my legs, and he abandoned my breast to touch them. Here, too, he was gentle, just stroking them at first, then slowly parting them as he moved up the inside from my calves. I just watched his eyes, as they darted from my face to his hand and back again. He kissed me again, and I returned it in French. As my tongue went into his mouth, his hand found my pussy for the fist time that morning. Ah, timing is everything! I let his fingers move up and down my lips, searching gently, probing softly, for an opening. My mouth played with his lips, and my hand by now was stroking his cock to its full height. I shifted so my hips would be right next to his balls, and my hand on his shaft also rubbing his stomach. I could feel him rustling around in my fur. I was still a very little bit tender from last night, but by no means dry! He soon found the source of all the moisture and his fingers just swam through it. I pulled his head down and let him know it was time for some tongue work. It was leisurely at first, and then he got adventuresome. Just as his head almost wholly disappeared under the robe, the day's first car drove down the street, stopping at the stopsign just across the road. What are these people doing here? Time to go inside. I pulled the robe together and stood up. For Larry, the problem was a bit more difficult, but we made it inside without anyone calling the rectitude enforcers. He climbed on the bed first and turned to me as I just stood there and waited. He beckoned and I put a knee up, allowing him to grab my thigh and the small of my back. I let him kiss my mouth, then down my throat and chest until the robe fell open and I let it slide to the floor. Larry pulled me up onto the bed and then kept going, kissing first each breast, then my belly, and then burying himself in my forest. My god, he was good! His tongue found and then circled my clit. It found and probed my secret tunnel. He ran down the smooth insides of my thighs and made me tingle from there to the top of my head. I was on my back, his hands underneath my butt, his head between my legs. I could just reach the back of his head with my hands, but soon gave that up to hold my own breasts--I though I was going to explode if I didn't! His tongue was bobbing up and down--my back was arching in time with his tongue. I was sopping wet down my butt and all over the tops of my thighs. We were going to have to roll over soon so he could get what was going to be a very wet Wet Spot! Finally, I pulled him up, each of us panting. I rolled him over and kissed him, then straddled him. I really like the penetration I get this way, and after last night I wanted to try this, too, with him. I mounted him, and felt him push the muscles aside as he entered. Gently at first, for his shaft wasn't totally wet and some of my contractions had already started. His hands went to my breasts and he was just playing with the nipples; I had never seen them so long! And I just kept finding more and more length to him, too--I could feel him deep inside, now, I thought he'd have to push my cervix out of the way! I pulled up a bit, and then down again: he nested a bit better, and got better still the time after that! Clearly, a bit of practice and we'd really make a team! I moved his hands to my butt, and had him stroke me there for a change. He pulled and pushed at it, and got himself adjusted even deeper into me. He was concentrating on me so much he was drooling! This is the kind of attention I wanted! We began to get our rhythm together. It's exercise like this that keeps my thighs in shape, and I love it! He tried to follow me as I pulled up and then down, and each time the friction just warmed me all that much more. I could feel myself wrapping around him, the way I do just before a really big orgasm, and the tension was marvelous! Then, about two strokes before I expected it, I came. It made me start bucking up and down like a thing possessed (probably was!), and about halfway through I could feel him begin to spurt; for a while I wondered if he'd ever stop. Not just once, not merely three times. Each time I could feel the moisture practically slam up into me. He just kept coming, and I thought I'd drained him last night after all his exuberant pumping then! I fell to my side, he still inside. He curled up next to me, and we dozed. Somewhere during that time, he fell out, and I think that's what woke me. I shook him gently, and as he came around, I had this big smile on my face and a bit of curiosity on my mind. "Now, Larry, isn't that better than coffee Sunday morning?"