I wake first. The morning light shining through a gap in the curtains.

I turn my head and see him, lying on his back. I look at his cock, flaccid, draped over his thigh.

I watch the rise and fall of his chest as he sleeps.

I get on my hands and knees and crawl between his legs.

As I run my tongue along his shaft, I feel it swelling, rising, expanding.

I suck the head between my lips, tasting the dried mixture of last night’s juices and cum.

I think to myself, “Who needs breakfast anyway?”