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Sinful Sunday: Gloaming

I enjoy a morning quickie, and obviously I love to fuck through the evening and into the night, but as far as I’m concerned few things in life are better than afternoon sex.

It’s gorgeous in summer, when warm, hazy sunshine pours through the bedroom window and forms a shimmering halo of light around your bodies; when you collapse together at the end into a sticky, sweaty mess and race each other naked to the ice-cold shower. In summer, even a whole afternoon in bed means emerging afterwards into a world still achingly bright and bursting with colour. Every lungful of air you take feels super-charged by the lingering physical memory of what you’ve just done.

Even that, though, struggles to beat afternoon sex in the middle of winter. In January the sunlight is weak and watery; short-lived, and more precious for it. Burrowing under the covers with another warm body means more than just shutting out the day for a few hours – it is a tacit admission that you’re happy for it to pass you by completely. That you have better things to do. A secret to share.

In winter, long, lazy afternoon sex demands to be followed by a nap. By two torsos stretched and curled around each other, and my thighs tucked up under hers. With an arm slung across her body, pulling her in tight, I feel more relaxed than I know how to describe; I’m grateful for her hair, muffling my already-inarticulate murmurs of pleasure as I drift off to sleep.

I can sleep for hours like that in winter, pressed-up and post-coital. Sometimes we wake up horny and want to fuck again right away, disengaging from our clinch just far enough to ease my hard cock between her legs. On other days, I open my eyes in time to see the sun setting outside the window, and the last of the daylight bathing the duvet with a splash of orange. I sit up and rub at my face, disorientated but conscious of how fat and content the day has left me; how catlike in my fuzzy, stretched-out splendour.

As energy starts to flood back into my limbs, I want to hurry out and enjoy every minute of this freshly-formed night. After a day wasted so wonderfully, I feel full of life and purpose – ready for whatever’s still to come.

Sinful Sunday

15 replies on “Sinful Sunday: Gloaming”

What a perfectly beautiful description of a perfect afternoon! This photo is a great capture of that last moment you describe. It’s brilliant how your silhouette and the window frame are the focus, even though your body is in the frame. Really, really lovely.

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