SUNDAYS by Orphan Annie
File Courtesy Of OAASIG II BBS (305) 647-2611

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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 Richard? 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 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 and saw the shadows change:
Richard? 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 I at least could step outside
and be seen as decent. Wanton, perhaps, but decently dressed.

There was Richard, on the balcony and 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 profile was squinting at the sunrise. I stepped
behind and rested my chin on his shoulder. "Whatcha thinking, Richard?"
"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
down to my butt and sort of snuggled me in to 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.

"Richard, wanna screw?" "Yeah, maybe, but let me wake up first." "Richard,
it's better when you're waking up. Haven't you ever awakened already linked to
someone?" He shrugged, but I noticed that the boxers had a new bulge in them.
I put my hand there and confirmed that it wasn't just the fold of the fabric.

"Richard, 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; Richard put his cup down, 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 right 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. "Richard?" "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 get really jealous Sunday mornings.
Jealous of the rest of the day, jealous of his computer, 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." "Richard, 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 Richard'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 first 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 mouth of the
river Pussy Cum, and began to swim in the lagoon. His fingers did a crawl,
then a sidestroke, and then rested in a lazy backstroke. I pulled his head
down and let him know it was time for a breast stroke with his tongue [sorry,
just had to put that pun in there!]. His tongueing was leisurely at first, and
then he got adventurous. Just as his head almost disappeared into 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 Lary, the
problem was a bit more difficult, but we made it inside without anyone calling
th rectitude enforcers (Besides, he was already quite e-rect! [Sorry, there's
another one!])

He climbed on the bed first and then turned as I just stood there. I put a
knee up, and he grabbed my thigh, pulling me towards him by 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 down to the floor. Richard 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 thought I was going to explode if I didn't!

His head 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 as I kissed
him, then straddled him, pulling his shorts down but not off in the process
(sometimes I'm just SO impatient!). 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 set 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 begin to feel him 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, Richard, isn't that better than coffee Sunday morning?"
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