Monday, April 03, 2006
A Good Morning
“Daddy, are you awake?” My eye shades are pried off my face. Up until a second ago I was deeply asleep.
“Hmm? Yes poppet.” It is AliBaba, number two son. The sunniest disposition of our three, bar the occasional bought of moodiness. Not this morning though.
“Yeah!”
“Ooof.” Number 2 son lands on top of me. “Aaagh.” Number 1 son, Pirate Pete lands on top of me. “Urph.” Little Princess lands on top of both of them.
“Tickle Daddy!” As LL chortles beside me, delighted at this display of familial love, I fend off hands to my ticklish bits, and knees to my sensitive bits. My boys have not yet been introduced to the painful side of testicles, lucky them. We do have to regularly remind them not to rub their crotches in public though. What can I say, little sybarites in the making, like father like son?
They eventually tire of the game and snuggle under the duvet between LL and I. There are a few squabbles about who is in the middle, but generally we have a pleasant time talking about nothing in the way families do.
“Children?” LL catches their attention, though the twinkle in her eye catches mine. “You can go downstairs and watch ‘Life in the Undergrowth’ if you want? We’ll be down after we have a shower and dress.”
“Yeah!” They proceed to wrestle over each other to get out of our bed. I don’t profess to understand young minds completely, but for a pair of intellectual parents it is a delight to have kids who prefer to watch David Attenborough rather than Scooby Doo. We deliberately limit the TV watching in our house, its only on maybe 3 hours in a week, and I think its made for happier brighter kids.
Anyway, LL rolls towards me, resting her head on my shoulder, her body draping over mine. “Mmm, good morning!” I get a slow sleepy kiss, which makes up for the three on one wrestling match that woke me up. She may be sleepy, but I am wide awake.
I don’t believe there is a bad time of day for sex, but I particularly enjoy early morning loving. It sets the day up right. So I roll her on her back, then begin nibbling on her neck, my hands busy slipping her pyjama top up and off.
We began wearing pyjama’s regularly only a year or so ago when Pirate Pete turned 5. I don’t think I’ve worn pyjama’s since I was five, so it was a bit of a shock to the system. Its not that we’re shy around the kids, they have seen us both in the nude, and probably will continue to do so, but we thought it best to bring a bit of modesty into the game. They go to a fairly conservative school, and it wouldn’t go down well to have stories of their parents running about starkers pinging around the playground.
Plus, though I love flesh to flesh, she’s wearing her silk woollies, which are a delight to touch, and take off. I burrow under the duvet (early morning sex, by its nature, has to be kept a bit… hidden), and kiss at the flesh I slowly reveal. I love tonguing her nipples, using my fingers hands and mouth to make them harden. Love to hear her breathing deepen, hear the little gasps when I bite… just so.
Then I move my hands down, untie her pyjama bottoms, kiss down her belly, move myself lower. Her period has just finished, so her musk is strong, perfectly overpowering. Her taste is just a touch metallic, but not unpleasantly so as I first tease her outer lips, then let my tongue part her, open her, tease her.
Sliding my hands underneath to cup and massage her bottom, I slowly bring her to a first orgasm, then begin kissing my way up her body again. Now sometimes when I give head, I concentrate on what I’m doing so much, that I can loose an erection. LL doesn’t like that much, and early on thought it meant I didn’t really like give head. Thing is I love doing it. I adore feeling her loose herself in the sensations, see and feel her body convulse underneath me. I work hard at watching the sings so that I can maximise and orgasm. Occasionally it means my little friend nods off, but it doesn’t mean I’m not interested.
This morning however, indeed most mornings, he’s wide awake and attentive. Her hands find me, and find me full and hard. “Uhmm, someone needs to go home! How do you want me darling?” This is about the extent of LL talking dirty, but I don’t mind, I’m not much of a talker myself when in the act.
Roughly grunting, I turn her away from me, and lay down behind her. The problem with under duvet sex is there is a limited number of positions you can safely use that doesn’t give it away if a small person suddenly appears (as has happened more than once). I like it this way, it’s a relaxed form of sex that also lets me go deep, and leaves hands free to play. We shuffle against each other a bit, until the geometry of love allows me entry.
I slide in, unhindered; she’s wet and tight this morning. And so we take a few more minutes to reaffirm our love before getting up to meet the rest of the day.
“Hmm? Yes poppet.” It is AliBaba, number two son. The sunniest disposition of our three, bar the occasional bought of moodiness. Not this morning though.
“Yeah!”
“Ooof.” Number 2 son lands on top of me. “Aaagh.” Number 1 son, Pirate Pete lands on top of me. “Urph.” Little Princess lands on top of both of them.
“Tickle Daddy!” As LL chortles beside me, delighted at this display of familial love, I fend off hands to my ticklish bits, and knees to my sensitive bits. My boys have not yet been introduced to the painful side of testicles, lucky them. We do have to regularly remind them not to rub their crotches in public though. What can I say, little sybarites in the making, like father like son?
They eventually tire of the game and snuggle under the duvet between LL and I. There are a few squabbles about who is in the middle, but generally we have a pleasant time talking about nothing in the way families do.
“Children?” LL catches their attention, though the twinkle in her eye catches mine. “You can go downstairs and watch ‘Life in the Undergrowth’ if you want? We’ll be down after we have a shower and dress.”
“Yeah!” They proceed to wrestle over each other to get out of our bed. I don’t profess to understand young minds completely, but for a pair of intellectual parents it is a delight to have kids who prefer to watch David Attenborough rather than Scooby Doo. We deliberately limit the TV watching in our house, its only on maybe 3 hours in a week, and I think its made for happier brighter kids.
Anyway, LL rolls towards me, resting her head on my shoulder, her body draping over mine. “Mmm, good morning!” I get a slow sleepy kiss, which makes up for the three on one wrestling match that woke me up. She may be sleepy, but I am wide awake.
I don’t believe there is a bad time of day for sex, but I particularly enjoy early morning loving. It sets the day up right. So I roll her on her back, then begin nibbling on her neck, my hands busy slipping her pyjama top up and off.
We began wearing pyjama’s regularly only a year or so ago when Pirate Pete turned 5. I don’t think I’ve worn pyjama’s since I was five, so it was a bit of a shock to the system. Its not that we’re shy around the kids, they have seen us both in the nude, and probably will continue to do so, but we thought it best to bring a bit of modesty into the game. They go to a fairly conservative school, and it wouldn’t go down well to have stories of their parents running about starkers pinging around the playground.
Plus, though I love flesh to flesh, she’s wearing her silk woollies, which are a delight to touch, and take off. I burrow under the duvet (early morning sex, by its nature, has to be kept a bit… hidden), and kiss at the flesh I slowly reveal. I love tonguing her nipples, using my fingers hands and mouth to make them harden. Love to hear her breathing deepen, hear the little gasps when I bite… just so.
Then I move my hands down, untie her pyjama bottoms, kiss down her belly, move myself lower. Her period has just finished, so her musk is strong, perfectly overpowering. Her taste is just a touch metallic, but not unpleasantly so as I first tease her outer lips, then let my tongue part her, open her, tease her.
Sliding my hands underneath to cup and massage her bottom, I slowly bring her to a first orgasm, then begin kissing my way up her body again. Now sometimes when I give head, I concentrate on what I’m doing so much, that I can loose an erection. LL doesn’t like that much, and early on thought it meant I didn’t really like give head. Thing is I love doing it. I adore feeling her loose herself in the sensations, see and feel her body convulse underneath me. I work hard at watching the sings so that I can maximise and orgasm. Occasionally it means my little friend nods off, but it doesn’t mean I’m not interested.
This morning however, indeed most mornings, he’s wide awake and attentive. Her hands find me, and find me full and hard. “Uhmm, someone needs to go home! How do you want me darling?” This is about the extent of LL talking dirty, but I don’t mind, I’m not much of a talker myself when in the act.
Roughly grunting, I turn her away from me, and lay down behind her. The problem with under duvet sex is there is a limited number of positions you can safely use that doesn’t give it away if a small person suddenly appears (as has happened more than once). I like it this way, it’s a relaxed form of sex that also lets me go deep, and leaves hands free to play. We shuffle against each other a bit, until the geometry of love allows me entry.
I slide in, unhindered; she’s wet and tight this morning. And so we take a few more minutes to reaffirm our love before getting up to meet the rest of the day.
