Best Morning Call

We should’ve been up already. The room’s too bright. Ivy hates mornings. She grunts, rolls, swears under her breath, but none of that matters. My cock’s stiff against my belly and the urge to taste her is louder than any alarm. I yank the sheet away. She tries to snatch it back, cursing, and I slide down anyway. She’s still warm from sleep when I push her thighs apart and bury my face. First lick pulls a reluctant moan out of her. She tells me to fuck off, but her hips already rise to meet me. I suck her clit, flat tongue, no mercy, until the swear words turn into half-cries. She grabs my hair, tries to push me deeper, then pulls away when it gets too good. I flip her fast, drag her until she’s straddling my mouth, knees planted on either side of my head. Her eyes, still half-shut, open wide when I lock on them. I don’t need anything else. Her slick folds grind down against my lips and tongue while I stare up at her. Her weight pins me; the only sound I want is the wet pull every time she lifts and sinks again. Fingers bite into the headboard as she fights it, then gives in. She comes hard, thighs shaking around my ears. She stays there, breathing hard, dripping on my mouth while the sun cuts across the bed. Best fucking breakfast I’ve ever had.