It’s Thursday 7:10am. One hand has reached across the invisible barrier between my side of the bed and his and has landed on my thigh.

Good morning it seems to say but no words are uttered.

Really? That’s what I’m thinking. Like, really? Like, we JUST had sex last night. Like, it’s been 8 hours. And it was mind blowing terrific. How in the world do you wake up horny? I don’t fucking get it.

But the hand doesn’t stop. It’s caressing my thigh and going higher. It skipped over the good stuff and went straight for my arm. Now it’s gently massaging my tricep, elbow, forearm and back down to my leg.

I move a little. Shit. Wrong choice.

One hand turns into two. The intruder is now moving into my territory as if my invitation. His breathing reaches my bubble. Still no words have been said.

I’m not going to act like I’m interested. I freeze. I don’t have to have sex. I turn my head the other way. Shit, I’m not even fully awake yet. I open my eyes. And what the hell? He’s starring at me.

“Morning my queen,” he smiles.

Once a day seems to be turning into twice a day real fast. His lips reach mine. And this is why we compromised at 4 times a week. A finger has landed between my legs. My husband is insatiable.

Or maybe I’m just that sexy…

“Oh shit!” I murmured as I launched myself out of bed.

I scurried myself to the bathroom to pee, rinsed with mouthwash and took a quick look in the mirror. Can’t see myself without contacts so I assume I look as I always do in the morning… hot as fuck apparently.

Guess I’m giving in. I remind myself that this 365 days of sex was my idea too. The fact that this man in my bed wants it constantly should make me happy, right? Sex feels wonderful. So what’s my deal? Why don’t I crave it the same way I crave sleep? I made it back to the bed. 362 days left to go.

He’s lying on his back with his dick in his right hand.

“Hey, you’re not supposed to be masturbating,” I say as I lie down on his left side.

“It’s ok as long as I jack myself off in your face.” He’s so damn sexy. I think I rolled my eyes.

I’m naked already because I sleep naked. My husband reaches over to my legs again. This time he slips a finger right between them and discovers what else I did while I was in the bathroom.

My pussy is drenched with wetness, slippery, ooey, gooey, juicy wetness. He thinks I’m horny. Really I’m just practical. I lubed up with coconut oil. It makes things go faster.

“Put your pussy right here.” My husband is pointing at his crotch. He is erect and ready for the day. I mount him and gasp as his dick slowly plows its way into my body. He’s huge this morning. Larger than last night I think. Or maybe I’m just tighter. Maybe she’s still half asleep too. It feels like heaven again. I start melting as I always do.

The way he fills me up.. I just can’t explain it. Security… that’s what he feels like inside of me. Our connection feels like protection. It feels like I’m doing my most important work.

He shuts his eyes and starts lifting my body up to create the sexual waves he needs. My energy is low although my drive is gaining momentum. I begin to thrust on him. His dick is buried in me completely. My bulging breasts are hanging in his face. He begins to love on one of them.

My husband looks so young in the morning. Fresh, really. And the look on his face is that of gratitude. Like he can’t believe his good fortune. “It’s you now, babe. Only you. You take care of my dick. You get all of my cum.” He’s basically praising me.

My thrusting gets faster. His eye shut again.

“I have the best pussy in the whole world.” His words get sloppy like he’s in a trance. I can tell he’s getting ready to explode.

It’s time for stories. I bring up what I said last night.

“Remember last night when I said that I loved smelling like your dick and then changed it to smelling like any dick? You called me a fucking whore!” I’m whispering now into his ear covered by his boyish blonde hair. He’s almost there. I grind just a little harder and squeeze my pussy as tight as I can.

“You fucking whore. Damn it, you are.” His body starts to shake and I feel my pussy get even more wet.

Mission complete.

After a few moments, I perk up and ask,”Baby, can you make me some coffee?”

“Anything for you my queen.”