Morning Cup

6. The games we play, 1702.

I'm now lying on my bare back, my angel nestled within my arms, her long hair tickling my face as her head rests on my chest. 
She's been playing with my hair and stroking my torso since we've started cuddling, like a year ago. 
I felt so relaxed I think I fell asleep, but I'm not sure if what happened was still just a dream or not.

"Take off your shirt." She breathes. 
Damn, I just told her we shouldn't have sex right here, right now, but apparently she's more ready than I thought.

"Angie... I..." 
I don't know what to think as my cock screams Yes! and my heart says No!!

She just laughs at my crumbled face, patting my cheek and my chest, then unbuttoning my shirt.

"You definitely are cursed with smudged shirts!" She jokes.

A large spot of jam lies just under the collar, she would have dropped the donut on it while we were making out. 
Half amused, half dashed and maybe half relieved, I take the tainted shirt off which she quickly grabs whilst getting off my knees.

I quickly sit up and grab my bended knees in order to hide the obvious and rub my face with the palms of my hands. I really have to make that boner down but it would be a hard task with her so close.

Her hands magically work on the shirt, she presses a lemon she's taken from the basket on the spot, carefully rubbing it with a tissue, then puts some water on and it was done. Fresh and clean. Real nibble fingers.

Once done, she spreads it on the grass and stands up, stretches her arms up then reaches her hand out to me.

"Walk with me."

I need more time to have the bulge in my pants gone, but there's an invitation I can't refuse.

We walked hand in hand through the meadow, talked and laughed like we've been mates forever. We shared kisses and stares like newlyweds, our hearts free and tied at the same time. Love and happiness as witnesses.

"Angie, what are you...?"

Back to our picnic spot, she suddenly lets go off my hand and kicks off her shoes. 
Eyeing me with that cheeky look of hers, she runs to the stream and without hesitation steps down the water, pulling up the hem of her skirt.

"Follow me!" She teases me before shrieking under the coldness of the water. 
She hasn't to ask me twice, within the second my shoes are gone and my white pants rolled up my calves. 
I know she's staring at my bare back as my muscles flex doing that, I have to admit it's fair; I glanced at her uncovered knees and thighs more than once while she walked in the water, her skirt stuck high on her hips.

"Oh fuck it's freezing!" I sing, my voice one octave too high. 
At least, it would help to cool me down.

She bends down, cupping her hands together to bring water to her mouth, dropping the hem of her dress for a moment. This inevitably falls back down to her knees and in the water.

"Oh no!" She catches the damp cloth from the cold stream and begs me. 
"Help me, I'm thirsty."

"At your command Ma'am!"

I gather some water in my cupped hands that I bring up to her lips and watch her sensually drink from me. 
She has put her hands under mines, keeping the water from cascading through my fingers, and I'm sure keeping me from tricking her, somehow or another.

Her big eyes haven't left my stare while she was drinking and my heart feels heavy and high. Again. Our hands stay entangled under her chin, as tight as our souls do. 
I'm so ready to confess my love for her, thing I've never tell anyone. 
The only "I love you" I said was for mom, the second after she dies. Too late. 
I don't want to screw up this one, she deserved a beautiful declaration of love.