We all know that sleep is a poor excuse to not have sex.

I tiptoe into the bedroom at 3AM. It’s Thursday of deadline week . . . been at the office from 6AM until well past midnight since last Friday. Tomorrow’s make of break day . . . the project goes live, or my ass is simply on the line. Needless to say, I’m tired – but also happy . . . all was working. I just need to show up at the office at 10 tomorrow, run through the demo, then come back home and sleep for the week. Once done, things might just be back to “normal” (whatever the fuck normal is).

I throw my clothes in a heap into the corner of the room and slide into bed next to you, ensuring that I don’t disturb you to find a note. “Wake me” it simply reads. Figuring it’s time to “talk” about how I haven’t been around, I reach for your shoulder to shake you, but a post-a-note awaits. “Covers off, first.”

Sliding the covers over your shoulders, I see, quickly, that your normal nightgown is nowhere to be found. I kiss your exposed right shoulder, and I feel you stir beneath my lips. Letting the kiss linger for just a bit, I see a slight tremble in your hips – it’s obvious you’re no longer asleep, but you’re going to let me do what I’m going to do.

With my fingertips, I trace your spine, slowly, from the back of your neck down to the top of your ass, my kiss moving from your shoulder to that spot just behind your ear, where there you always melt in front of me. You sigh as your back arches, making the back of your neck more accessible to my lips just as my fingertips reach your bottom. Sucking, nibbling, licking, kissing the back of your neck, I cup my hand over your cheek and squeeze with a hint of a growl escaping from your throat.

Deciding to play along with the “I’m asleep” game, I slide my body down, kissing my way as I go. Slow, sloppy kisses, tracing the line of your spine, just a tiny bit of light glistening of the my kisses from the full moon outside. Your hips start rocking as I, finally, reach the small of your back and remove my mouth — breathing long, deep breaths just above your ass.

Watching your body gyrate as I’m not even touching you, I look up to your head, whisper “I love you”, and see your fingers grip your pillow as you press your lower-back to reach my face. Taking the hint, I kiss the line between your back and ass, tracing the fingers of my right hand up from your ankle, over your calf, along the outside of your thigh.

“Fuck, take me” you whisper, the last vestiges of your “I’m still asleep” game disappearing. I get on all fours, licking my way up your side before lying down next to you, spooning.

“I’ve missed you,” I whisper into your ear, letting my breath linger and you, again, arch your back, pushing your ass to me, my fully erect cock evident against your skin through my boxers.

Holding you tight, I trace the line of your ear with my tongue, inhaling quickly and then, slowly exhaling, releasing my warm breath over your ears. You reach back with your right arm, grabbing my head, trying to grab a hold of my hair, which is too short to actually get a hold of.

Looking back over your shoulder, our lips meet. No matter how many times we might kiss, it always feels new, right, good, hungry. Our tongues quickly working our way into each others’ mouths: tasting, probing, exploring. I find your lower lip and bite, pulling your lip back to me as you moan. “I’ve missed you so, so much” I whisper as I release.

“Take me, my love,” you respond.

Turning your whole body to me, we wrap our arms around each other, our lips still firmly kissing each others’ mouth. At one point you start (and I can find no other way to describe this) going down on my tongue, making your intentions beyond clear. I open my eyes, looking down, and my heart melts a little as see the look in your eyes…much the same as the look you gave me that first night we were together. In fact, if I’m not mistaken – this look is hungrier and certainly more loving. Time has passed, it’s . . . beyond words . . . to see how your feelings have only grown.

My right hand reaches out, searching, reaching, finding your own left. Our fingers clasp and I push you down onto your back. Renewing our kiss, I place my body on yours and before I know it, my cock if finding its way into your pussy.

Dozens, hundred, thousands of times we’ve done this . . . and the moment I enter you is, still, the absolute pinnacle of sensation. I feel your hips rock and, suddenly, our hips our together. I cry out in sheer ecstasy as your hips reach mine. For a moment, time stands still. Neither of us breathe, second hands the world over pause. There is nothing but you, me, our bodies, the pleasure that we’re delivering to each other.

Still pushed fully into you, my body struggling to pump, to fuck, my left hand traces your forehead, the nape of your neck, up the line of your arm before clasping my fingers to yours. Firmly, I hold both of your hands down above your head, look down at you and into your eyes as you whimper “I love you”.

This time, it’s my turn to arch my back as I feed hungrily upon your lips once more as I start to retract and the push back into you. Your hips move in time to mine, our lips moving in unison, we start breathing as one.

Your fingernails claw into mine . . . the pain is exquisite, and yet I won’t feel it until the next morning . . . as you gasp and bite my lower lip. I force my tongue into your mouth as you scream into my own.

We continue our tango, beads of sweat forming at my brow, dripping down my face. “Kiss me” you whisper up to me, and, again, our lips meet . . . the salty sweat beading off of my face pouring onto your lips, a salty concoction passing over your lips, mixing with your own sweat.

With one thrust, I reach that “point of no return”. Knowing my climax is coming, and knowing that my sleep schedule has dictated that I won’t be much good after an orgasm, I slow my pumping, gasping for air, releasing your right hand from above your head.

Placing my hand on the side of your face, I whisper “I love you so, so much,” looking into your eyes as I thrust one final time, all of my tension releasing from my toes, up my legs, my spine, my head, back down through my shoulders, my lower back, and then into you. You gasp just as the first squirt enters you.

“Fuck” you scream, an unexpected “flash orgasm” reaching you.

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I collapse onto your side, breathing heavy, my fingers tracing along your side in a rapidly slowing pace as I struggle to keep my hand up. You snuggle into me. “I’m so proud that you got things done at work . . . can’t believe you had that in you” you tell me as I close my eyes, your fingers tracing along my forearm.

We sleep arm in arm for the first time in years.

I’m not kidding when I say this is a graphic pic — not “disgusting” if you’re ok with male nudity, just I don’t want anybody accidentally stumbling upon it. I’m not especially proud, or ashamed of my body. I think nudity is taken way too seriously in our society (if we make it more commonplace, it won’t be such a big deal when a nipple slips). Click anywhere in this message to see the photo.