Dennis Chronicles - Early Riser

Dennis Chronicles: Early Riser

Blurb

Last night, Dennis gave me everything--and this morning, my body remembers. It's early, he's sleeping, but I'm wet and aching to taste him again. We don't just match in bed; we challenge and complete each other in every way. What starts as my soft seduction quickly turns into a delicious wrestling match for control... until he takes it back the only way he knows how--hard, deep, and undeniably his.

This morning, I was the one doing the beckoning. And Dennis? He answered.

Well, this was a good morning.

Sex the night before? Amazing. Like I've said before, we're like a couple of teenagers. We're both givers, so it's no wonder our sessions can stretch for hours. And even a "quickie" with Dennis is at least an hour. Dennis likes to make sure I'm satisfied--to Dennis's level of satisfaction. And I do the same for him. We're lucky like that. What we have isn't just about the sex, though it's undeniably incredible--it's the way we move through everything together. There's a natural rhythm between us, a compatibility that runs deeper than desire. We match in intensity, in energy, in the way we challenge and soften each other. The chemistry is only one layer of something more whole.

After an incredible night and a shared shower, we finally collapsed into bed. Late. But here I am, 5:30 a. m., and my pussy is already wet, needing more. Dennis is got an early start with his construction business, but right now, I have other plans. And they don't involve sleep.

We sleep naked, which is perfect. When his cock stirs, I have immediate access. I do the same for him--if Dennis is hard, I want it. No matter how late, whether I'm half-asleep or needing to leave work early, if he beckons, I answer. This morning, it's me doing the beckoning. If Dennis is hard, I want it--no matter the time. He calls, I answer. But this morning, I'm the one doing the beckoning.

I shift close to his back, admiring his tattoos. God, he has great ink--a total turn-on, though I don't need much help this morning. I slide my arm around his chest, fingers drifting through his chest hair. Another weakness of mine. He stirs slightly under my touch.

I hook my leg over his hip, inching my foot down to part his legs just enough to coax him onto his back. My heart pounds so loud I swear it's echoing in the room, but he doesn't stir fully. Not yet.

Perfect.

I slowly slip under the sheets, down his body, until I'm face-to-cock. Dennis is impressive even soft, and my nearness has already coaxed a reaction. I lick the head gently. Precum. Mmm. He tastes so good. I love the way he tastes. I want more, but I need to move a bit slower. I want more, but I tease--slow licks, soft kisses, savoring him like a lollipop. A very, very naughty one.

Dennis's hips shift. A low groan escapes his lips. My smile widens. He's waking.

He tries to pull me up, but I resist--just for a moment. I want this. I want to stay in control a little longer, to guide the moment and take my time. I feel empowered in this space between his sleep and wakefulness. But the truth is, with Dennis, control is an illusion I love to play with. And I know exactly when it shifts.

His strength wins out. He hauls me up, and I'm giggling as I straddle him, his cock grazing against my slick pussy.

Dennis looks up at me, blue eyes now nearly black with desire. "You woke me up for this?" he asks, eyebrow raised.

I shrug.

He pinches my nipple, hard. I grit my teeth but stay silent. He smirks. Oh, he's definitely awake now. I pinch his nipple in return, laughing.

Suddenly, he flips us. I'm on my back, arms pinned above my head, legs spread by his. He crashes his mouth onto mine, rough and hungry. This is going to be sweet--a little roughhousing and wrestling this morning. His cock, hard and hot, presses against my belly.

I shift, wanting him inside me. But Dennis has other plans.

He captures both wrists with one hand and places the other around my neck--not tight, just enough to make me melt. My body reacts instantly. I beg him to fuck me, hard and fast.

"You started this," he growls. "I finish it my way." Yes. Please.

Dennis kisses me again, rough and possessive, and this time it's more than lips--it's devouring. Our mouths crash with want and defiance. I try to kiss him back with equal force, to take back even a little of what he's stolen with that first thrust. My tongue tangles with his, almost like a challenge, and his hand slides back to my throat. I moan into his mouth. I run my tongue along his neck, pinch his nipple.

"Don't," he warns. So I do it again.

Dennis growls something under his breath and flips me onto my back again. His hands grip my thighs as he spreads me wide, and he starts pounding into me, deep and fast, almost punishing. Each thrust feels like it drives straight through to my soul, like he's marking me from the inside out. I dig my nails into his back and gasp his name, helpless in the best way.

Just as I prepare to slide down onto him, Dennis grabs my neck with one hand and my ass with the other, freezing me in place. His grip is firm--his hand around my throat isn't just holding me still, it's claiming me, reminding me exactly who finishes what I start. My breath catches. My body goes still, waiting, pulsing, surrendering. And then--he thrusts. Hard. Fast. Deep.

My gasp turns into a moan as he fills me without warning, and suddenly I'm not just straddling him--I'm taken. My body tries to respond, to reclaim control, but he's already there, thrusting up into me with powerful, deliberate rhythm, holding my neck as if he knows every inch of my surrender is wired to that grip.

Dennis lets go of my ass, but keeps his grip firm around my neck, just enough pressure to make me feel deliciously owned. With that hold, he guides my movements, controlling my rhythm as I ride him hard, desperate, greedy. I cum almost immediately.

That look of power and triumph on his face? Fucking delicious. And in the middle of our teasing, wrestling, power-shifting play, it hits me again--how perfectly we fit together. Not just sexually, though that's explosive every time, but in all the ways that matter. We match in rhythm, humor, fire, tenderness. This isn't just physical--it's instinctive. It's us.

I lock my legs around him and roll us again. His shocked face is priceless. "What the fuck are you doing?"

I laugh, slide down, and take him deep in my mouth. His taste mixed with mine? Intoxicating. I suck, stroke, lick his balls, teasing him to the edge.

His hand presses my head down, burying his cock deep in my throat. I gag, and that only turns him on more.

God, I love this.

He flips me onto all fours with no warning, his strength and urgency electrifying. One arm wraps tightly around my waist, yanking me back onto him as he drives in, hard and deep, relentless in his rhythm.

"Cum."

Just like that, I do.

As my pussy tightens around him, he lets go too, filling me, thrusting until we both collapse. He leans over, breathless. "Satisfied yet?"

I give him a playful yes-and-no look.

He chuckles. "It'll have to wait till after work. I'm late." An hour and a half late, to be exact.

He picks me up, carries us both to the shower. And I'm already thinking about later--and the next time he lets me wake him up just like this.