The mid-morning sunlight filters in through the latticed windowpanes of the kitchen, casting spirals of light that dance upon the countertop where I am kneading my bread dough. I reach once more into the flour canister beside me to scatter another handful of flour onto the breadboard to ensure that enough flour is coating the surface before resuming my kneading once more. Re-coating my fingers with another layer of flour, I plump up the dough with my hands before punching it down forcefully with my fist. Shaping it into a loaf, I drop it into the greased loaf pan and set it up onto the warm windowsill of the kitchen window, covering it up with a towel before leaving it to rise.

Hearing footsteps walking overhead, I smile, hearing confirmation that he has risen for the day. Reaching into the cupboard, I pull out the pancake mix and the boysenberry pancake syrup that he loves so well. Hearing the water begin to rush through the pipes in the wall, I realize that he has now stepped into the shower and I close my eyes while stirring the pancake batter, envisioning the warm soapy water as it runs in long rivulets down the smooth brown flesh of his skin. Shaking myself out of my daydream, I test the heat of the frying pan before pouring a generous portion of batter into the middle, hearing the soft sizzle that accompanies it as the pancake slowly begins to expand its circumference. Removing the lid from the syrup and reaching in to get the butter out of the refrigerator, I ponder the floury mess that is my breadboard. Shrugging, I decide to leave the mess until later and turn to focus my attention instead to preparing breakfast and trying to keep my mind from wandering off to the man who is showering upstairs.

Placing the first few pancakes onto a plate in the oven to keep them warm, it isn't much longer before I complete the rest of the batch. Pouring the last of the batter into the pan, I cut a small pat of butter off from the cube and place it on top of the rest of the pancakes that are in the oven. Briefly registering movement out of the corner of my eye, I shut the oven door and pause for a moment. I suddenly feel the length of his large warm shower moist body pressing intimately against my backside.

Feeling his hands reach around to cup my hips firmly in his grasp I smile and slowly straighten up, attempting to turn around to kiss him goodmorning, soon finding out that my efforts are being thwarted.

"Mmm…stay right where you are…" he breathes into my ear, his mint sweetened breath blowing softly against the loose tendrils of hair that have come undone from my ponytail to rest against the side of my neck.

"Okay," I say to him. "Breakfast is ready when you are…"

"Shh…" he replies, gesturing at me by raising his long forefinger to his lips in a quieting motion. He turns around and walks into the living room, leaving me to wonder what he's up to. Hearing him flip through the music cds on the shelf, he chooses one and inserts the disc into the player. Joining me back in the kitchen, moments later the sensuous voice of Al Green begins to fill the house.

"Uh oh…" I giggle at him. "Al Green? This early in the day? Mmm…good thing that I put the pancakes in the oven to keep them warm. Wait a minute - the last one's done." Flipping the pancake onto the spatula, I place it with the rest of its friends in the oven. Turning around at last to face my morning companion, I smile as I take in the baggy shorts that he's wearing - that and nothing else.

Backing me up against the kitchen counter, he reaches out to grasp my shoulders gently in his large hands, squeezing the flesh of my upper arms before running his fingertips lightly down the length of both my arms. Grasping my fingers in his, he brings my hands out to encircle his waist. Pulling him close to me I sigh and lay the side of my cheek against his chest, inhaling his freshly showered scent and enjoying the feeling of the moist flesh of his muscular chest pressed against my face.

"Let's get rid of this," he tells me, reaching down to grasp the bottom of my loose t-shirt in his hands. Pulling it up and over my head, he smiles down when he realizes that I'm not wearing a bra this morning. Easy access.

"Here I am baby, come and take me…here I am baby, come on and take me, take me by the hand…come and show me…squeeze me…"Al Green sings to us hypnotically in the background.

Pressing bare skin against one another we slowly sway to the music that's playing. Reaching his hand up, he swiftly removes the hair band that's holding my ponytail in place and my hair falls across my shoulders in a soft rush. He runs his long fingers through the tangled mass leisurely while smiling down at me. "That's better," he breathes against my jaw, reaching down to nuzzle the edge of it with his lips.

"I…I'm so in love with you…whatever you want to do, is alright with me…'cause you make me feel so brand new, and I want to spend my life with you…since we've been together…loving you forever is what I need…let me be the one you come running to…I'll never be untrue…let's - let's stay together…loving you forever whether times are good or bad, happy or sad…" Al Green serenades us as we continue swaying slowly together.

Groaning softly as I feel the length of his erection pressing hotly against my waist, I run my hands up over the soft suppleness that is his skin to grasp his large shoulders in my palms, squeezing firmly. Wrapping my hands around his neck I pull his head down to mine, closing my eyes as I feel the soft touch of his lips against mine. Grasping his full bottom lip in between mine I tug on it gently, pulling it into my mouth playfully.

"So you want to play, do you?" he asks me, reaching around to swat me gently on my backside. Laughing as he begins to tickle my sides, I gasp in surprise when I feel him tug my shorts swiftly down my hips. Stepping out of my cut offs, I'm suddenly reduced to mere white cotton panties in my kitchen.

"C'mere you," he says, gesturing me forward with a curled forefinger. Smiling up at him I comply, stepping back once more into the warm circle of his arms. Gripping his hands around my waist he lifts me up onto the counter, seating me smack dab in the middle of the floured breadboard.

Closing my eyes as I feel the cool soft silk of the flour cushioning my bottom, I gaze up at him in surprise as he reaches for the boysenberry pancake syrup. "What's that for?" I ask, stopping suddenly as I feel the tip of his finger against my lips shushing any further inquiries.

"If I were the sun way up there, I'd glow with love most everywhere…I'd be the moon when the sun goes down, just to let you know that I'm still around…That's how strong my love is, that's how strong my love is…" Otis Redding's husky voice sings, replacing Al Green.

Holding the syrup bottle over my chest, I watch in breathless anticipation as the thick syrup within slowly leaves the end of the jar to fall in a long sticky strand onto the end of my right breast. Gasping slightly as the cool sensation hits my flesh, I lean back onto my elbows as he places the bottle back onto the counter. Reaching out with a fingertip to sample the syrup, he makes an appreciative noise at the back of his throat as the sweet flavor dances over his tastebuds. Bringing his lips close to mine he kisses me deeply, and I too am now enjoying the taste of the syrup. My heart in my throat as I feel his fingers kneading their way down my sides, his tongue slides down the length of my throat, seeking my breast. Stopping when he reaches my nipple, he looks up at me wickedly before enveloping the tip with his mouth. Sucking the syrup with an appreciative murmur leaving his throat, I writhe in response on the floured breadboard as lightening jolts rapidly through my body. Curling my toes in reaction to the intense sensation that his mouth is evoking, I grasp his head in my hands to hold that delicious mouth of his firmly to my breast.

Moaning in complaint as his lips lift themselves from me, I shush instantly as I see him reach once more for the bottle. Drizzling more syrup onto my other breast he pauses to smile at me before dipping his finger into the butter that is sitting on the counter beside me. My mouth opening in surprised response to this action, a throaty chuckle of amusement leaves his throat at the look on my face. With a hungry growl he then pounces onto my breast, lapping at the syrup voraciously now as I arch my back against him in response. He places his sweet butter slick fingers onto the center of my chest, spreading his large hands wide while massaging the creamy richness of the butter into my skin. Running his hands down my sides he pauses at my hips before hooking his fingers into the elastic of my panties. Lifting my bottom obligingly, I allow him to pull the thin material down my legs.

Dabbing his other hand into the butter he massages it into the soft tender skin of my inner thighs, his fingers slowly inching their way up to the juncture of my legs. Reaching out for the syrup once more he drizzles a long line from my bellybutton down to the lips of my labia. Laughing as I feel the stickiness of the syrup pooling in my bellybutton, my laughter soon ceases with a gasp as his tongue proceeds to lap up the syrup meticulously, his mouth tenting briefly over my bellybutton to suck out the syrup that is enmeshed within.

Hooking my legs over his shoulders, I support the weight of my body on my elbows as his tongue follows the sticky trail to the source of my body's natural sweetness. Groaning as I feel his fingers begin to stroke my heat, he slowly runs a finger up the length of my wetness, pausing at my clitoris to rub my tender nub in slow circles. Arching my hips up towards him I moan softly as I feel his tongue running itself up the length of my slit.

"Mmm…" he mumbles to me. "Can't figure out which is tastier - you or the syrup…"

Reaching down to grip the edge of the breadboard, my fingers curl themselves through soft flour as I wrap my legs around his powerful frame. Pressing my hips further towards that wonderful mouth of his, he holds my hips tightly in place as his lips, tongue and teeth proceed to drive me to the brink of insanity. My body tightening gradually in response to his ministrations, I pause as I feel his forefinger and middle finger sliding themselves into the core of my body's heat. Thrusting long and hard into my wetness in time with the lapping of his tongue, my knuckles tighten on the breadboard in response. He pauses at the brink of my orgasm to withdraw his fingers from me, ignoring my whimper of protest. Reaching into the freezer, he removes a grape popsicle before grinning once more wickedly in my direction.

"Wh-what's the popsicle for?" I manage to sputter out.

"Shhh…" he whispers, silencing my question with a devilish grin. "Trust me…"

Unwrapping the popsicle, he pops it into his mouth, his lips noisily sucking at its tip in an appreciative fashion. Leaning forward to me he kisses me once more, and I shiver as I feel the cool touch of his tongue invading my mouth. Tasting his offering of grape, boysenberry and my own womanly essence, I cup his face in my hands and ravish his lips. Slanting his mouth over mine he returns my passion, and I suddenly let out a gasp into his mouth as I feel something cold and wet touching my nipple. Drawing away from him I look down to see him encircling my nipple with the tip of his popsicle in a lackadaisical fashion.

"That's c-cold," I manage to stammer out at him.

"Well let me make up for it then," he replies, bending his head down to instantly encompass my cold flesh in the haven of his warm wet mouth. Sucking my nipple clean of all sticky grape residue, I begin to consider that this might not be such a torturous object after all.

Running the tip of the popsicle down the length of my stomach, I alternately gasp and then moan as I feel the cool trail of the popsicle followed by the warm lapping of his tongue. Breathing rapidly as I feel the popsicle tracing small circles on the inside of my thigh, I feel myself involuntarily clench up as it trails slowly over to my sticky entrance. The tip of the popsicle is inserted into my depths slightly and I howl loudly in protest, only to be soothed instantly by his warm lips and tongue, apologizing for his transgression.

Writhing further into the flour on the breadboard as I'm alternately tormented with cold and then wet luscious warmth, my senses are aflame and I loudly demand that the ache in my body be appeased. Raising himself up in front of me he gazes at me intensely before offering the popsicle to me wordlessly. Opening my lips, I swirl my tongue around the cold sweetness of it while gazing at him and then proceed to jump down from the counter. Falling to my knees in front of him, I toss the popsicle into the sink and instantly envelop his hard length into my mouth. Gripping the muscular curve of his ass firmly in my hands to hold him in place, I proceed to return the favor in kind to him. Running his fingers through my hair he holds my head in place, groaning encouragement to me at intermittent intervals through his tightly clenched jaw.

Could there possibly be a better way to pass a lazy Sunday morning?