Fleetwood Mac-Part III of Fritz Series

Huh...?

***A/N sexual content, plot literally non-existent except for the very last two paragraphs***

I guess I'm more tired than I thought I was because I crash about as hard as Stevie the second we hit the mattress. At about six Ginny waddles into the room pawing at my hand to go outside, she lets out a sad whine when I don't get up immediately but eventually I roll over squinting at her in the pre-dawn light "That time already huh?" taking a seat on her rump she sits upright waving her paws at me, I guess she's really gotta go. Reluctant I crawl out of the warm cocoon of sheets and comforters on the bed, I make a quick stop at the dresser to throw on a pair of boxers just in case Sara is running around this early. She's not, just like Stevie she can stay up all night and sleep till noon. But one never knows.

For as much as there are seasons in California this is as close to fall as it gets. It's cold to me, so mid fifties but as I understand it in some places that would be considered a rather warm temperature. I have a weird sense of de ja vu standing here, I don't mean it seems repetitive because this is how I wake up at least five times a week, but I feel like I've been in this exact position before watching the tree line of my property in boxers jonesing for a good cup of espresso but deflated by the fact that I have no idea how to use the machine and I have to wait for Stevie to get up to do it. Have our lives become cyclic so quickly?

The grass rustles and Ginny trots out from behind her favorite clump of bushes ready to go back inside and back to sleep for a few more hours. The life of a dog-I envy her. Eat, sleep, do your business, belly rub, chase butterflies, rinse and repeat. Throw sex and guitar in the mix and that sounds like a damn fine existence, maybe when we retire...we retreat back into the house the sliding glass door shushing behind us gently. Shrugging off my tiredness I walk back to the bedroom kicking off my house shoes near the door, thinking twice I bend down and set them upright so Stevie won't grumble at me about being messy.

The sight that meets me when I round the corner sends all thoughts racing south however. Still very much asleep, Stevie's managed to roll halfway onto her back the white satin sheet covering just one side of her chest while the other peeks out at me practically waving hello. She, like me, went to bed stark naked so really there's not a lot of imagination that I need to exercise in this moment. One bright pink rosebud nipple at the center of her perfect breast rises and falls with each of her breaths. One of her legs winds dangerously around the top blanket her creamy thigh and bottom delightfully exposed.

Easing our door shut I tip toe toward her supine body kneeling so that I'm straddling her exposed leg and thigh. My muscles flex as I lower my body toward her my lips nuzzling at her ear, like a sculpture I draw my calloused hand over her backside and to her shoulder then back again and again. Eventually she purrs gently pressing her body into my palm with a smile on her lips "Morning" I breath against her neck, she huffs a small throaty chuckle playing with the curls at the back of my head "Mmmmm morning" I cease my devotions to her body for a moment so I can look into the soft brown of her eyes, her nose crinkles in amusement and I rub mine against it "Oh my God!" her outburst sets me back "What?" dead serious she looks me in the face "You're eyes-they're blue" her jaw twitches, then she devolves into pearls of laughter snorting at my long suffering expression.

"Yeah, and you have great tits. We gonna screw or do you wanna state the obvious all morning?" she laughs harder smacking my shoulder. Maybe Nova gets that from Stevie, she packs a hell of a punch. "You're such an adolescent Linds" me? I was in the process of making tender long overdue love to my wife. She's the one playing comedian "Sorry-I'm just...your face" so amused is she, she can't form a complete sentence.