I awakened with my butt spooned into Jesse's groin, both of us on our sides, his placid cock inside me, me encased in his arms, his strong hands fanned out over my pecs. I felt for the ring. It was still there. I didn't care what the courts had said, Jesse and I were married. One unit. As solidly linked as we now were in one body, linked irrevocably by that cock now at gentle rest inside me.

Jesse felt me stir and kissed my ear and nibbled at my neck, while his fingers started to make little swirling movements in the curly, downy hair around my nipples. I felt his cock stirring - that long, slender rod with the upturn that caused his dick head to drag along my inner walls maddeningly as he stroked me. I pushed back into him with my butt. His mouth started to suck on my neck, more insistently, more awake. One of his hands dug into a nipple; the other fanned out over my belly, holding me there, while his hips began a rhythm. The rhythm of the early-morning deep, slow, languid, sensual fuck. I lifted a thigh over his, giving him deeper access. I sighed and moaned for him.

But he wanted more. He was fully awake, fully reinvigorated. He wanted to fuck me wildly. He always wanted to fuck me like a wild man. We didn't really have time for this; I wasn't really in the mood for this. But he was my partner. He wanted me, and I loved him for that.

I allowed him to pull me up onto my knees and I widened the stance of my legs, opening wide to him. My chest was flat against the sheets, and my arms were flung out wide, my fists gathering and releasing bunches of bedspread and sheeting in rhythm with the furious stroking that he, on his knees between my legs, was applying with that long, draggy cock of his inside me. As I knew it would, that cock of his was putting me in the mood for him. I cried out for him, loving those long deep strokes. I writhed underneath him, as he plowed me hard and long. I loved the feel of the sliding uncut cock inside me.

With a cry of exultation, he came inside me, flooding me, no need for any protection between us now beyond the rings of pledge on our fingers.

We collapsed on the bed, and he stroked me off to ejaculation with his hand. The loving, caring partner. I could feel him stirring again, and he wanted more, but one of us had to be sensible. He had a class to go teach and I needed to get to work on the new chapter of my novel.

Stolid against all of his protestations, teasings, and attempts to arouse me, I forced him out of the bed and lay there, half asleep, contentment filled, as I heard him patter about the apartment and then leave for the university. I would not make the mistake of stirring before he was gone. The last time I had done that, he had taken me, roughly and wildly on the kitchen counter and almost not made his class.

I waited until I was well sure that Jesse was on his way, and then I groaned my way out of the bed, showered, threw my favorite white, diaphanous caftan over my head, and padded out to the kitchen. Immediately, my mind became