Disclaimer: I do not own Joan of Arcadia, I just occasionally play with the content.
College Mornings
Sunlight streams through the window of our fifth floor walkup bachelor suite on the north side of the NYU campus as I burrow beneath the comforter once more and try to absorb a little more warmth before I absolutely have to get up and face the cold floor, my biology lab, and a four block walk through the snow to get to my first class. I got used to being a morning person but winter sunlight is just too much to take on three hours of sleep at seven in the morning, especially when my girlfriend is lying behind me, still asleep, but not for long. I curl into a tighter ball and inch my way impossibly closer to Grace's chest and tuck myself under her jaw. She will be up with the alarm in exactly three minutes, eyes screwed shut in defiance to the call of the alarm clock, and bring her fist down on the snooze button before swearing and slipping out of bed to start coffee because I don't get out of bed until there is coffee made. Grace refuses to take the garbage out so we came to an agreement, and all I have to live with is her cold feet, which she'll touch to mine and watch me jump awake and glare at her. I wouldn't change it for the world.
I can also think of a better way to wake up. I slowly turn until I am facing her bare chest, thank god she sleeps in a pair of boxers only, and I start to lay kisses from collar bone to floating ribs, stopping as soon as she starts to push her body into mine. I switch between the occasional bite on some of her more sensitive areas, a torturously slow lick down her breast bone and feather light kisses working my way up and down the skin of her torso from left to right. She starts to stir, smiles and threads her fingers into my hair and tries to guide where my next kiss is going to be. I chuckle a little and deliberately push against her influence and work my way up to her mouth for a proper good morning kiss. "Grace, I already know you're awake," the alarm goes off as I start speaking, there is a decisive thump on the alarm as the snooze button gets its daily dose of abuse. She rolls onto her back and languidly stretches like a cat.
"Who wouldn't be in the face of such a thorough assault," she says as I roll on top of her and settle myself over her hips. I'm not wearing much either, a camisole and a pair of boy shorts, both temptingly sheer, "Pretty frisky for someone who was up half the night finishing a paper," she states sitting up and pulling me to her as she works a row of kisses down my throat as her hands start to inch my camisole up my torso and over my head. She tangles her hands in my hair and pulls my head back as our nipples both barely graze each other in the chilly morning air and I gasp as she painstakingly kisses down my neck to my collar bone.
Poor university student lesson one, whenever possible make your own heat in winter.
I push my weight down against her and keep at it until she leans back and lands on the bed again, I push her hands to the slats on the headboard and wait until she grabs hold, "sit back and just trust me," I say with a meaningful stare and accept her nod of assent before returning to my blatantly prurient interests at hand and return to tasting her skin and start pulling her boxers off. I mark my trail down her body in bite marks and deep kisses. I make sure to pay extra special attention to her almost ticklish spot, at the top of her hip on her right side. I take a moment to swirl my tongue around her belly button and pull in a deep breath and her scent with it. I arduously pull the waistband of her shorts down a millimeter at a time and giggle at her groan of aroused frustration. She pushes her hips up to get me closer to her goal. I pull back and silently make it clear that I'm not going to go any further until I am in complete control. She submits and I return to my favorite morning activity, driving Grace wild. I manage to work her underwear off and toss it in the direction of the laundry basket and settle her legs over my shoulders. She's actively pushing herself into the mattress.
I dip my head and take a quick taste of my favorite flavor, better than coffee and way more invigorating. She groans at the teasing and I make up my mind to take her hard and fast, a quick check with the tip of my index finger lets me know she is more than ready. I push two fingers into her steadily and slowly and hear the first muttered, "fuck" of the morning and she rolls her hips from side to side taking in every sensation she can from my touch. I dedicate my mouth to thoroughly mastering her clit.
I start with a series of full licks, then use a little bit of tooth for a variety of sensation, always careful of my pressure. Meanwhile I'm bringing up the speed of my thrusts with my right hand and holding her hip down with my left hand. I start to write my mornings worship onto her bundle of nerves and feel the pull of her walls taking me in as deep as she can before gripping onto my fingers as I draw them out once more. She smells like, well Grace, a mix of the damp heat of primal earth and humid rainforests that hide more secrets than can ever be revealed in a lifetime and her deep throaty groan is almost more than I can handle, tremors run down the length of my body and already being fairly wet myself, I know she will finish me off with just the sound of her voice. In all my high school years I never would've ventured that Grace would be a moaner, but I am more than happy to know it firsthand now.
I pick up speed on both fronts, listening to Grace's one sided conversation to all deities known to man in five languages with a heavy emphasis on passion laden profanity. I add another finger and can feel the change in her own rhythms that tell me she is close, riding the fine wire between anticipation and release. Her hands are clutching the headboard still and her torso has raised itself off the bed in a snake charmers dance of ecstasy and hypnosis. I drop my right shoulder and let her leg drop to the bed before throwing mine over it, riding her thigh to her center for a few delicious strokes clit to clit. The material of my soaked underwear providing a wondrous friction that takes us both over the edge simultaneously at my last thrust. Both of us are held in a spasm of overriding sensation, still because movement would cause too much sensation to bear. The moment lasts more than a minute and I collapse on top of her with a last swirl of my hips, another shudder and a strangled scream.
We both take a few minutes to rest and let the breath come back to our burning lungs. Grace lets go of the headboard and holds me close. Our sex life has always been great, but my favorite moment is right after when she's holding me close and I can see in her eyes exactly how much I mean to her.
It took me a long while to realize that Grace says everything she needs to emotionally through her eyes. They are her biggest give away and the last thing she'll let you see until you've gotten past her walls. The alarm goes off again 730; dammit time to join the world of the waking and walking.
"I think this morning is going to be a campus coffee day because I've already had Starfucks and I'm definitely not up to anything more strenuous than the walk to class." Her eyes are closed and she's smiling as she says it. Nerd. I roll my eyes and remember when I was the one making the Starfucks references, but in my defense she did take me on the counter in the kitchen while I was brewing a fresh pot of coffee.
"I'll pack lunches, you shower." I say as the afterglow wears off and the reality of morning routines and school schedules sinks in and urges us to rise from our sweaty heap and join society in its intricate dance of obligation and expectation. Grace groans and utters a series of expletives impressive in its length and its variety of language. She sits up and kisses me passionately and thoroughly and then limps to the bathroom for a shower. I guess I had better make good on my offer then.
Lunches are easily dispatched, thank god for leftovers, and my innate ability to pull an opera of a sandwich together at the drop of a hat. As an extra special treat for Grace while she's waiting between classes I pull off my now thoroughly drenched panties and drop them into her lunch bag with a mischievous smile on my face. That should be good for a quickie in the stacks of the library before my twentieth century American history lecture. I check the schedules on our fridge and make sure both backpacks have the right text books and notebooks. Well, Grace has a rucksack and I have a Swiss Army backpack so it isn't easy to mix them up, but there was that day during finals last year, so I check every time now. Grace calls me paranoid; I think that although I am paranoid it doesn't mean that they aren't out to get me anyways.
I walk over to the dresser beside our bed and start to pull out my warm clothes to change into when I get out of the shower. My choices don't take long, a clean bra, my lucky pair of panties, my favorite low rise jeans, and a Dollyrots tee shirt Grace bought me on our second anniversary, mainly because it had the words, 'Because I'm Awesome' on it, to go over an insulating long sleeved undershirt. The rather ornate preparations I used to pull in high school have been shelved for a maximum of sleep time rather than popularity or posturing, sleep deprivation seems to be the leveler of all standards in post-secondary education. I saw my history TA show up to class still in her footie pajamas and no one batted an eye.
I hear the tap in the shower shut off and Grace half soaked walks into the sleeping area of our apartment from the bathroom as she towels off and begins searching for her attire for the day, but she does stop to throw my camisole into the laundry basket proper. I skip off to the shower before my hands start to wander. She has a pair of thick, grey wool socks in mouth, black boxer briefs on and boots beside the bed as she starts to pull on a holey pair of insulated jeans when I look back from the doorframe of the bathroom.
I skip washing my hair because it's going to be a pain in the ass to walk four blocks in a New York City February with wet hair. I wash with my favorite body wash and rinse. I still have a few minutes to put on some make up; just enough to cover the bags under my eyes and give the illusion of humanity when you look into my face. I brush my teeth and ease into my casual school clothes. When I walk back into the main area Grace has her jeans done up and held in place with a Sex Pistols belt and buckle, plaid insulation peeking out of a number of prominent tears in the knees and worn spots along the back of the left leg. On top she has a green Dropkick Murphy's tee shirt over a black long sleeve shirt and I know she has an athletic shirt on underneath it all. She's pulling on a dark grey hoodie and then grabbing her leather jacket. I do much the same though my hoodie is pink and I pull on my charcoal wool trench before slipping my hands into convertible gloves.
I shoulder my bag and follow Grace out the front door while she holds it open for me. She has the keys at the ready to lock our door in all three deadbolts and a pair of leather motorcycle gloves in her teeth.
We'll walk together as far as the campus coffee shop; grab a cup of coffee and our respective on the go breakfasts and part to go to our classes. Grace will head toward the humanities building and I'll make a dash for the science buildings and hope I don't get sidelined by an assignment by he-who-shall-interrupt-my-life-with-purpose. We walk down the street toward our fourth year classes, hand in hand silently enjoying the simple peace of being with each other. The walk doesn't take all that long, but by the time we reach the coffee shop we're both a little chilled.
I grab a black coffee and proceed to adulterate it with cream and sugar as Grace looks on in horror. She pushes the protective lid on her cup of black coffee. "I'm going to kiss you before you swallow that," she says pointing to my coffee and then holds my coffee cup down to the counter and places a steamy kiss directly on my lips then takes her leave to make it time for her Spanish class. I walk into my biology lab with a dazed smile on my face to nearly run into the substitute professor teaching my biology lab today, only she looks disconcertingly familiar…
TBC