I started the day off right today with morning sex. Morning sex has lots going for it, including, but not limited to, the daze that comes with that kind of dopamine early in the day. Lucky for me, today is Sunday, and I have nothing to do. I’m enjoying my quietude.

I wandered home early this afternoon, made breakfast in the nude, and then stepped into a nice cool shower. Showering after sex can be particularly refreshing. I just stood there, enjoying the water, and letting the stickiness covering my thighs first reconstitute (rub fingers between thighs, remember his hands there) and then rinse away. I added soap (a beautiful lubricant) and slipping fingers between outer and inner labia rubbed gently, feeling the swollen tissue.

This morning I slipped my hands between our bodies. Women are at a particular disadvantage when it comes to visual stimulation during sex. To counter that, I occasionally “see” what’s going on with my hands. Gently pinching my clit between two fingers and wrapping a third around the base of his cock inside me, is as close as I can get to actually seeing, without the use of complicated mirror systems. Hands are remarkably sensitive, especially the spaces between fingers. I like erogenous zones that can be stimulated in public: intense hand-holding, toys for the mouth, the back of the neck, the scalp, the inside of the elbow. They’re like inside jokes for lovers.


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