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Our Passionate Morning

The morning light filters in through the sheer curtains, casting a warm, golden glow upon your slumbering form. I can't help but drink in the sight of you, so peaceful and serene. As my eyes linger, you stir, a coy smile playing upon your lips. "What can I do for you, my love?" you murmur, your voice thick with the remnants of sleep.

"Let me show you," I breathe, pulling you close and pressing my lips to the delicate column of your neck. A shiver runs down your spine, and goosebumps blossom across your skin as I trail featherlight kisses along your jaw.

Your body aches for my touch, and you meet my advances hungrily, your hands roaming my chest as you capture my lips in a searing kiss. Slowly, you trail your way down, your mouth worshipping the planes of my torso until you reach your ultimate prize. With agonizing slowness, you take me into the welcoming heat of your mouth, your tongue swirling and caressing.

I can't resist the urge to flip you over, pinning you beneath me as I lavish attention upon your most intimate places. Your cries of pleasure spur me on, my tongue dancing across your sensitive nub as my fingers plunge into your slick, welcoming heat. Your body trembles on the precipice of ecstasy, and I savor every quiver, every gasp that escapes your lips.

At last, the need to be one becomes too great to bear. "Flip over," I command, and you obediently assume the position, your back arched invitingly. With a firm grip on your shoulders, I sheathe myself within your welcoming warmth, our bodies moving in perfect synchronicity as we build towards that glorious crescendo.

Wave after wave of ecstasy washes over us, our cries mingling as we crest that peak of bliss. Spent, yet utterly satisfied, we collapse into each other's arms, hearts racing and limbs entwined. In the afterglow of our passionate tryst, we bask in the warmth of our love, content to simply hold one another and savor the moment.
Written by moroccanpoet
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