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Morning Sex, the Whole Alphabet Version (or at least the A, J, & W)

It’s Sunday morning, after a Saturday afternoon and evening of debauchery and play and going-out-to-dinner-dressed-like-the-slut-I-am.  We’ve all three managed to sleep in past the bird screaming in its nest outside and the neighbor’s dog barking, but we aren’t going to sleep past Ad’s morning hard-on.

I seldom do.

I am turned on my side, my butt to Ad, cuddling W’s back, when I feel Ad poking at me from behind.  “Go away,” my sleepy brain says. My body has a mind of its own though, and pushes back against him.

I feel his hand slide over my waist, down my hip, up to my breasts. I lean away from the warmth of W’s body, letting the cool air caress me. His hands heat my skin back up in no time.  Ad leans into me, pushing his cock against my rings, pushing my thighs apart. I capture him tightly there, between my thighs. Ad pulls me back against him, holding me tight, his cock nestled in-between my legs.

We fall back asleep.

And wake sometime later, me turned to Ad this time, W cuddling behind me.  Ad is turned just enough toward me that I can feel his penis, soft in sleep, against my upper thigh. “Go back to sleep,” my brain says. I push myself closer to him, pressing my body against his, feeling our skin slide together.  My body is  a stupid cunt at times.

I feel him hardening even in his sleep. I smile in satisfaction. Now fully erect, he comes fully awake. He pushes me over on my side facing away from him again, and this time he doesn’t tease, he wets the fingers of one hand and parts my rings, then follows his fingers in with his cock.

“I have to pee,” I say, because it’s true. His cock must be specially shaped, it always hits my bladder in the morning.

He laughs, lets me get up to go. I see W cock an eye open as I crawl over him, then squeeze it shut.

When I return Ad is on his back, with the blankets off, one fist wrapped around his upthrust cock.  I get back in bed and eagerly take him in my mouth.  But I am too eager: my rhythm is all off, I’m too fast for him.  He places a hand behind my head and pulls me up to kiss him, to straddle him, to fuck him.

I do, rocking against him in exactly the way I know he likes, feeling his hands on my hips, my waist, groping my breasts. I hear the hitch in his breath as he builds toward his climax, feel him beginning to thrust up into me as well.

I see W laying awake, watching us.

I reach down between my legs and begin to touch myself.

As my excitement builds, so does Ad’s, as his excitement builds, so does mine. Does it excite W to see us this way? I don’t know. And soon I don’t care, as Ad cries out a guttural “Yes! Yes!” and pulls me down onto him, hard, pushing himself deep into me as he spills his seed; and I am coming in that moment too, gasping, my fingers working furiously on my clit, trapped there between our bodies.

I collapse in a heap on top of him.

Ad laughs at my spent form sprawled over him.  I roll off, letting the morning air cool my feverish, sweat-slickened skin; watch the light filtering into the bedroom. After a time I pull the blankets back up over us both and snuggle into Ad’s side, my back to W.

W pulls himself close to my body. I hear Ad’s deep, even breathing, feel W’s warm breath on my neck.  “Go to sleep,” my annoyed brain says.

I wiggle my ass back against W; feel his arms tighten around me.

Sleep!” says my brain.  My body, of course, ignores my brain.

I reach a hand back and palm his warm, soft cock and balls. His cock stiffens in response.  I settle back against him, parting my thighs just a bit, squeeze his cock between them the way I did Ad.

I am feeling like The Seductress: powerful, irresistible.

In charge.

With a twist, W pushes me over onto my belly and my face into the pillows. Before I have time to protest or wriggle away, he thrusts his cock into the cleft of my ass-cheeks, against my tight, dry asshole.  He shoves, gaining a tiny bit of entrance. I resist; he is implacable. He holds me down with his weight and a hand twisted savagely in my hair. I whimper. He continues to push, mercilessly, into me.  My body resists him, stretching, but not enough. Burning.

I realize, even as I fight him, that he will do this.  He will win.

I am no longer the one in control.

With a gasp I surrender, opening my body to him, trying desperately to bring him inside, because once I do, I know I’ll get wet, and then it won’t hurt so bad.

I imagine, even, that he might come in my ass like he did the day before, on the floor, tearing my elbows and knees up on his carpet.

I shudder with sudden, unreasoning, stupid desire, and he shoves his cock all the way in.  And pulls back out, making me gasp, before pushing himself in again, deeply, in a single hard thrust. I cry out. I gasp, and twist, and fight him.  He holds me down and does it again, and again, deep, staccato thrusts that feel like they are ripping me open. There is no pleasure in this for me, no growing wet in cunt and asshole with excitement. Just pain.

And yet.

I flail one arm about, and Ad catches one wrist, pins it. And W is pinning me from above. And there are hands in my hair, pulling savagely, and W showing no mercy, and even as tears start in my eyes, I feel my breath coming in excited pants.

Fuck him. Fuck him for making me like it this way, for making me want it this way.  But want it I do.

Then just as suddenly as it started, just as I am beginning to ease into it, to grow accustomed to it, to want it, W suddenly rolls off me. Grabs me by the hair and shoves my face down to his cock. I recoil, revolted. He pushes my head down harder. I have no will to resist. I clean him off with my mouth, grateful for the ass-rapes of yesterday, because they have apparently cleaned me out pretty well.  Still, I gag.  W drags me back up, still by the hair, and pushes me back against the pillows.

This time, he shoves his fingers into my cunt, grinds his palm against my lips and rings and clit, making it hurt even as I writhe and moan and beg inside my head for him not to stop.  I am nearly delirious, panting, struggling against them both as they hold me down, as he fucks me with his hand.

Again, just as I am about to come, he stops.  There is a moment of stillness, of silence in which we all lay there, panting, me whining in my need a bit, then he smacks my legs apart and pushes himself into my cunt in one smooth motion.  I am so wet, wet with my own juice and Ad’s, slippery and sloppy, and I know he is going to come in me, sliding into me between my rings, rings and lips that are dripping with another man’s come. I am a nasty, dirty thing.

And he fucks me: no words, just pounds mindlessly into me.

I come almost instantly.  He comes a moment later.

Next to us, I hear Ad chuckle as he lets my wrist loose.

And outside, the damn dog starts barking.

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If you haven’t read Morning Sex: A’s Version, W’s Version & J’s Version, you should.

One Comment

  1. This is an amazing piece.

    First off, it’s just hot. Really hot.

    But what makes it amazing, and all the hotter is the way you show the differences in dynamics between you and Ad and you and W. Neither is better or worse, right or wrong, they’re each different.

    I’ve said about open relationships that each discrete relationship configuration is truly unique, with its own energy. Here you’ve shown how that is true about the sexual component.

    It’s really something to see so deeply and clearly into what you all share. Thank you for the opportunity.

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