“I want to make you cum,” he whispered into my ear.

In my sleepy daze, I replied, ”Then why aren’t you inside me?”

His hands went to my hips, pushed my pajama pants down and into the mess of the covers. His hands, again at my hips, lifted up my sweatshirt and tank top, exposing my nipples, turning them hard from the cool morning air. He pulled the fabric up over my arms, converting my warm limbs to goose flesh. I was now awake.

At once, his arm encircled my hip, brought my body against his. I felt his chest on my back, and his hard and ready cock slid between my thighs. I gasped, just a little.

He stroked his cock, back and forth, back and forth, along the edges of my lips. Soon, his cock was wet from my wanting. 

His hand on my belly sunk its nails into my skin, the only sign of his hesitation, his anticipation.

“Why aren’t you inside me?”, I asked again.

He nibbled on my ear and answered, “Because I have time.”

A growling hum escaped me. This was going to be good.

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