Chapter 34: Morning Glory

I’ve never been one for sleeping late, but when I woke that Sunday morning, spooned up behind Clarissa, her naked body pressed against mine, my arm draped over her and clutching a perfect round breast, I could happily have stayed there for the rest of the day. I kept my eyes closed, afraid that should I open them the dream would come to an end, and took a deep breath. My head was just above hers, so the overriding smell was that of her shampoo, which contained lavender I think, but beneath it was the aroma of sex—the unmistakable scent of female arousal mixed with slightly stale sweat.

I lay like that, awake and enjoying the heat of her body and the softness of her boob in my hand, for an eternity. Once or twice I flexed my hand, squeezing her tit and producing a soft moan from her, even though I was sure she was still asleep. Eventually, I felt her pushing her rear back into me, rubbing my semi-hard cock in the crack of her arse where it had settled.

“Morning,” she said, dreamily.

“Morning.”

“I wish...” She tried to turn her head to look at me but couldn’t move it far enough. Instead, she shuffled around to face me. She placed her hand on my cheek and said, “I wish I could wake up like this with you every day.”

I smiled. “I’d like that too.”

She sighed. “This is all I want, Paul. Yours is already the last voice I hear at night, but I want yours to be the last face I see before I close my eyes and the first I see when I open them every morning. Wouldn’t that be great? Not now, because there’s no way Mom would let me stay here on a school night, but once the exams are out of the way...” Her eyes suddenly lit up and the excitement was evident in her voice as she said quickly, “Westmouth! When we’re both in Westmouth come September! Maybe we could ... Maybe we could get a little place. I’d pay for it, you know I’ve got the money, or will have by then. I know that freshers usually stay on campus, but...” She stopped just as suddenly as she started. “I’m getting ahead of myself, aren’t I? You might not even want to—”

I cut her off with a kiss. Not one of our passion-filled nuclear fires, or even a slow, simmering lover’s kiss. This was something deeper. Something more. It was as if, in that one kiss, our souls connected. As if we were communicating on some heretofore unknown level. I understood her because of that kiss. I understood her hopes, her fears, her dreams. And she understood mine. I know she did because I could feel that she understood. In that one, amazing kiss I felt ... Complete.

We broke apart and I pulled away, my eyes never leaving hers, which were wider than ever I’d seen them.

“Did you ... Did you feel that?”

I nodded.

“It was like ... Like I could read your mind or something. No, that’s wrong. It’s like I—”

“Understood?”

“Yes! That’s it exactly. It’s like I understood.”

“Me too.”

“Wow. I—” I put my finger to her lips to silence her and bent in to kiss her again. A slow-burner this time, but with that strange connection right there bubbling beneath the surface. The world felt right. For probably the first time in my life, I knew what I wanted, where I wanted to be and who I wanted to be there with.

And it was all her.

While we kissed, she stroked my cheek tenderly with her hand then trailed her fingertips down my neck, sending shivers up my spine that exploded in the back of my skull. Her fingers kept going, down my chest, just brushing a nipple, all the way to my crotch where they wrapped around my cock. She pumped it slowly, squeezing lightly a couple of times into the bargain. She pulled her lips from mine and looked into my eyes. Her pupils were almost completely dilated, with lust I assumed because it was quite light in the room.