Physical

With the comforting yet so unspecial air in the room, you have sex, now you trust in me, it is natural.

The afternoon getting closer to evening, you've spent the afternoon in the spare room, doing work for university, wearing that elusive top that is just about tight enough to complement your curves that I have longed for, ever since that summer, my mind at the time, dim yet enlivened by you coming into my life.

I am stuck on this one part of this video game, growing tired as I hold the Xbox controller in my hand, expertly lounging on the comfiest part of the sofa, feet up on the foot rest that I've forgotten how it stands. I'd gotten used to you always appearing at ten past five, always offering to put the kettle on just after you offer, I always feel blissfully guilty, a cloud laced with thorns as I know how lucky I am to have you.

Hearing the spoon touching the sides of the cup in the kitchen, the next room over, I await for you to come and sit next to me and cuddle up, a takeaway was a given on a Friday evening, no need to dread another Waitrose ready meal, our lives demanding of it, oh well, our careers kick off and we'll have much more time to get creative in the kitchen.

You come and sit down next to me, a brief moment of a few words on the screen, filled with black, as the TV changes from the Xbox to the Virgin Media box, the Xbox letting off heat from its vents, a night now certain for that heat to radiate from our bodies, colliding together as a slight sweat, that same loving intrigue about the game, now from giggles as you feel me touch you, all over.

Maybe the takeaway food can wait, surely, if it melts on the tongue, its probably best after a good work out, where every endorphin is triggered as our lips softly peck as we feel the energy build, our skin only as soft as heaven when you cheekily ask for sex.

You always enjoyed me ravishing you, although sweet and kind as you are to others, you beg me to lick your nipples, your breasts naturally gorgeous as nothing phases you, it is all natural and normal to you, I'd never suspected a girl like you to take sex for granted, a once a week orgasm was like your morning vitamin.

In missionary, the bed shaking, the headboard banging against the wall as the bed moves back and forth, your moaning now pornographic yet genuine and demanding more. I sit up and pull your legs up to my chest, knees over my shoulders, my cock now hitting all the right places. 

The workout now promising a long feeling of tranquility post orgasm, and before we know it, the sheets show it can certainly happen.