"Good morning," he said.
"Morning!" I try to chirp back at him. "How was your sleep?" This is our typical morning exchange.
"Ok, how about you? How are you feeling?" I have been ill the past several days and he's been checking up on me quite regularly throughout the day.
"Sleep was very good! I feel fine, except my nose and throat refuse to cooperate. Nose is still runny and my throad is still sore and I'm still coughing." On cue, I cough. "Oh, and I had a bloody nose this morning."
"That's because you're picking your nose."
"I'm not! Probably from blowing my nose too much."
"You're probably just horny then. I asked you last night if you wanted some attention and you said no." He teased me. I squirmed a little. It's true that last night, I did some snuggling and considered it, but opted for sleep, hoping that an extra hour of sleep would be the miracle hour that would take me over the hump into complete recovery. Before I got ill, he was ill, and illness tends to kill our energy for sex. I did manage to give him a memorable blow job one evening before he fully recovered and the night before I got really sick, he gave me the most delicious sleeping pill. We've learned that sometimes lovemaking does help a little during sicknesses and we try to engage in it when we can. He nuzzled up to me and I allowed myself to sink into the couch with him.
He nestled into the couch behind me, spooning me. He spread my legs apart and rubbed me. It felt wonderful. I moaned. I could feel my nipples rubbing against the fabric of my nightgown. They ached.
"I thought you needed attention." He said as he turned me, lifted my leg over his shoulder and slipped his cock into me.
Being filled for the first time in a few days was amazing. His strokes were shallow and slow, but they felt so good. He kissed me leg and looked at me with so much desire and longing. "I've missed this." I said. He smiled and pushed harder against me. The perfect response.
After my first orgasm, I reached down and pulled him towards me, indicating I wanted him much deeper in me. He pulled out and stood up to get properly naked. I pulled off my nightgown and got on my knees on the couch, supporting myself up with the arm of the chair. He mounted me from behind and quickly established a firm, fast rhythm. I was in ecstasy. His hands were on my hips, guiding himself in and out. I was gasping as further orgasms made me tremble.
"I love the color of your skin." The light in the yellow painted living room in the morning is gorgeous and golden. He stroked my back with one hand and grabbed my a handful of hair with the other. "And I love fucking you."
Hearing him say that turned me on so much and I began rocking against his rhythm, forcing his thrusts deeper in me. He responded in kind by pumping faster and I quickly came again. He reached around me with his hand and began playing with my clit, holding him inside me, and I shook from the sensations. I was breathing so hard and shallow, still not fully recovered from my cold. I was sweating, my body slightly moist all over. The back of my knees were damp. He had exausted me and I, surely, was radiating enough heat to be uncomfortable. He pulled out of me and collapsed on the other side of the couch while I stretched out my legs on the coffee table.
We smiled at each other from opposite ends of the couch, the cool morning breeze coming through the windows and bathing over us. Good morning, indeed.