I am not, by nature, a morning person, and that remains true even on days when I’m getting up to do something I love, like play hockey.
In fact, early hockey matches can be a real pain. It’s not just that I lose one half of my weekend lie-in – with 70 minutes of running around to prepare for, I also have to make sure I’m up in time to eat, hydrate, and generally cleanse my body of the previous night’s excesses. Adulting 101, some would call it.
Today’s game gets underway at 10.30, which meant my morning routine started with an 8.15 alarm call. I rolled out of bed, drank a pint of water, padded into the kitchen, and turned on the oven. Food is rarely far from the front of my mind, and even though I don’t like to eat too much before I play sport, I pretty much always have a breakfast plan. On this occasion, that involved hash browns, eggs, and maybe a small slice of cake.
With the oven heating, I went back to bed and set another alarm for 8.35. I knew I had to leave the flat at 9.10, so the idea was to stick the hash browns in for 20 minutes, scramble some eggs, have a cup of tea, and get myself ready to wolf down my food at 9.
Our bedroom has two outside walls and a door that opens straight onto the terrace, so in winter it can be a little like sleeping in an industrial freezer. With only 15 minutes of precious napping time available to me, I dove back under the covers and curled my body around Liv’s.
I can sleep just about anywhere, at any time (a tremendously useful, if dangerous skill), so I passed out again almost immediately and didn’t stir until my second alarm. Livvy woke up too, and lifted her head just far enough from the pillow to turn and look at me with sleepy disapproval.
I turned off the alarm and decided to allow myself two more minutes of snuggling before I got up. I could feel her warm back against my chest, and her smooth, strong legs tangled up in mine. After years of fiercely marking out my own space in shared beds, I’ve turned into a properly cuddly sleeper, and Livvy is entirely responsible for that transformation. Somehow our bodies just slot together perfectly, and in my 35 years I’ve encountered few things cuter than the soft, mumbly, contented moans she makes when I wrap her up and pull her close against me in bed.
This morning I let my hand move up from her stomach to skim over her tits and tease her hard nipples. I kissed the back of her neck, and the warm patch of skin underneath her ear. She squirmed – only a little, but enough to grind her arse back into my crotch, up and down the length of my hard cock.
I thought about the oven, and the packet of hash browns waiting for me to fish it out of the freezer. I thought about the hot cup of tea I’d barely have enough time to drink, and the eggs I was planning to scramble.
I rolled over and put one hand on Livvy’s back to stop her following me. As she sighed and relaxed again, I reached down and fumbled for the bottle of lube we’d left beside the bed. I slicked a generous dollop over the head of my cock and nudged it back between Livvy’s legs.
A proper breakfast could wait. There are always M&S sandwiches…