Steady Recovery

So it's summer. The windows are open and, even though it's approaching nine, it's still light. I'm lying on my bed having just finished an old issue of Green Arrow I bought from Orbital Comics two days ago. TD has been watching Come Dine With Me, which featured four stereotypical WAGs. I turned the television off (attempting to do it with my feet, which were closer to my TV, but I failed and had to use my hands - lame) and directed my attention towards her. Nice skirt. Top that shows a bit of cleavage, not bad. Very nice hair. Looks relaxed.

So it became kissing time. Evidently. We kissed once, twice... again. Again. Again. I moved, so I was lying on top of her. More kisses. A cool breeze drifted through the window from outside, which was very pleasant.

[I should probably point out at this juncture in the narrative that I was a bit of a physical mess prior to lying on my bed. My back was bent slightly out of shape, my feet were calloused and everything else felt raw. That's what my job does to me, and the sun doesn't really help. I'd had a massage and my feet in a basin of cold water and that made everything better, but slightly so. So cool breezes were most acceptable.]

It had been so long. I hiked up her skirt and traced my index finger across her underwear.

"Rainbow pants?"

They were rainbow pants, indeed. Very pretty. Very nice. But they needed to come off if I was going to progress. After all, if there's one thing summer lends itself to, it's getting undressed. We didn't quite get that far, though.
The rainbow pants came off. I unhooked my trousers, too, pulling them down. And whatever pants I was wearing, even if they weren't rainbow.

More kisses. I leaned forwards, and slowly eased myself into her. Always a great feeling. Exciting, considering we both still had most of our clothes on. More so, as the windows were open.
I lay there for a few seconds, re-attuning myself to my surroundings, before beginning to move. Slow... easy... soft. But deep. Yeah, soft but deep. That, I like.

We lay there, on my bed, having slow sex with our clothes on, while outside, the birds sang a evening chorus, which was clearly audible through my bedroom window.

The are worse ways to end a day, I think.