It’s morning and your alarm startles you. You awake to find yourself across the bed from her. You’re a guy, so usually, your first thought of the morning is “I need to pee” or “Fuck! What time is it?” if you’re me. But not today.

Gentle sunlight makes its way through the blinds and caresses her naked shoulder, thus making it glimmer in your hazy eyes. She slowly turns, and with the moves of a gentle cat, she draws near to smile you a “Good morning!”

It’s not sex, and it’s not love. It’s better than vitamin C on a harsh winter day. It’s better than sleep after a Mexican Drinking Night and better than water the morning after. You’re both still a bit dazed so everything’s moving slowly. It’s like the dread on a Monday morning combined with the hope of a Friday afternoon. Every sigh, arch and ‘oh’ is so mellow, yet every grip and thrust is stronger than Irish coffee.

The climax is like a slow dance at a highschool party, the shower after is an exclamation mark. You wear nothing but a t-shirt, to underline how naked your better-bottom half is. She is still naked, because she can…

Oh, right. Then, you eat your cereal, or whatever.