My heart belongs to London . . .

Story Summary: I get to watch her sleep, and then tease her awake slowly.



WAKING

I love waking up first, snuggled against Ginny’s back with my arm draped protectively around her middle.

I get to watch her sleep, and then tease her awake slowly. And I know the number of days we have left like this are limited, and then it may be a long while before I get to do it again.

She’s so beautiful when she sleeps. She looks happy, peaceful. Her hair shines like red gold as it fans out against the pillow, and her skin simply glows in the sunlight starting to filter in through the blinds at the window. Her breathing is steady, soft, and I love to watch the rhythm ... the rise and fall, the swell of her breast.

Oh, and what lovely breasts they are. Full, and gently rounded, with dusky pink nipples I love to tease with my fingertips and tongue.

I lean in and brush my lips against the back of her neck, enjoying her scent.

And then I bring my hand up to trail my fingers slowly along her arm. She turns toward me in her sleep, showing me more of her beautiful face and exposing herself to me. We don’t wear clothes to bed and my hand gently cups her breast. It’s warm in my palm and just the right size for my hand, not too big, not too small. I lean down and kiss her nipple, and she makes just a hint of sound, a soft moan perhaps.

I plant kisses along her breastbone moving down toward her belly button, where I pause to swirl my tongue briefly. I pause to pull the sheet away so she’s completely uncovered then.

I love to look at her body. She worries about her weight, her muscle tone, proportion. I think she’s a work of art, and I’ve always had an appreciation for art. But she’s self-conscious when I try to just look my fill, so I don’t push her. I revel in times like these when I can look all I want without embarrassing her. I spend several minutes visually exploring her lines and curves, the contrasting textures between velvety soft skin, the downy soft hair on her arms and the course curls at the apex of her thighs.

She shifts slightly in the bed and the result is her thighs fall slightly more apart, and I just can’t help myself then. I need to smell her, to taste her, and I scoot down toward the foot of the bed to lean over her. I breathe deeply and her scent is intoxicating to me. I reach with my tongue and just barely touch the sensitive little nub hidden in her curls. It’s like pushing a button to open a door, her legs instinctively part for me and I begin to explore her folds with my tongue. She makes an “mmm” sound and I suspect she may be waking, but I continue with my task.

Five minutes later, her legs are spread wide and I’ve settled myself between them. She still hasn’t opened her eyes to admit she’s awake, but we both know she is as she bucks and moans against my invading fingers and my insistent tongue. My face is glistening with her juices and I’m rubbing my cock against her calf to give it some relief from its insistent cry for attention.

I swipe my tongue hard across her clit as I probe just a bit deeper with my fingers. I feel a fresh rush of wetness against my fingers and she cries out, “Oh, Harry!”

I’m feeling quite smug, and then confused as she bolts from our bed.

And then I hear the retching sounds from the loo.

I fucking hate morning sickness.