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Thursday, March 24, 2011

ONE SUNDAY MORNING

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Posted by Penny on March 03, 1999 at 11:13
Sunday mornings are my favorite mornings of the week. I don’t know why it should make a difference to me here, because there are normally MORE guests here on Sunday morning than any other, but MOST of them sleep a little later on a Sunday. Which means, of course, that I can laze in bed a little longer.
I STILL set my alarm for 6 AM. Habit I guess. I dive out of bed and switch it off and then, remembering it is Sunday I crawl back into bed again. Deciding that I really need to go to the toilet ensures a looooong debate (about 10 seconds in total) as to the merits of walking all that way to the ablution center. With that debate out of the way, I lie back and close my eyes and let myself drift slowly off. As I feel myself at that mid point between conscious waking and deep sleep, I slowly (ever so slowly) wet my bed. The warm wet flood seeps through my track suit and pools up in the bed under me. I put my hand down between my thighs and feel my very wet panties. As the wetness spreads between my fingers in a sudden gush I feel the warmth rushing to my head and my body begins to tremble … and I lie and wait for the shuddering to pass.
Most Sunday mornings (well, most mornings) start in very much the same way. It does wonders for your equilibrium but is disastrous on the constant washing and ironing that has to be done. ( Sometimes, I get so agitated when I know I have run out of sheets that I get up and go and stand in the storeroom and just wet myself there. Once, when I HAD sheets but had run out of track suit longs, I pulled my longs off and climbed back into bed. Without the absorbency of the longs, I nearly drowned myself. Even my hair ended up wet.)
And then … in this state of wet, soggy bliss … I go back to sleep. Sometimes I wake up again at about seven, with an even more urgent desire to visit the ablutions. (Hell, who am I trying to kid. I NEVER have a desire to visit the ablutions … I just want to fill my panties.) I lift my legs slightly so my knees are bent and begin pressing down on my abdomen with my hands. It has really got to be the most amazing feeling in the world, to feel all the soft firmness pushing into your panties and filling them totally. I don’t even have to touch myself to have the most incredible orgasm … and then, to lie back on the bed and move your body slowly up and down and just feel everything squashing up between your thighs …. Total and unadulterated bliss!!!!
But my BEST Sunday morning, was one where I had just completed this entire process … when I heard a knock on my bedroom window. This can normally put me into a total state of panic at this stage as I might have to deal with a guest query or some sort of “deemed” crisis. This morning, however, I was feeling so mellow I just lay there and tried to ignore the interruption. Even when I heard the window being opened, I decided I wasn’t moving. And there he was … climbing through my bedroom window … MY man.
He looked at me and grinned and said “Good Morning, My Darling. I hope I’m not disturbing you?”
Smiling sleepily, I said, “Not at all, but I’m NOT getting up just yet.”
“Can I join you?” he asked politely.
“Well…, I don’t know if you will want to … once you see the mess in here.”
“What mess? What have you done?”
“I’ve been very, very naughty. I just couldn’t get myself up out of bed in time and I’m afraid …”
“Can I have a look?”
“If you really want to.”
He pulled back the blankets and stared at the wet sheets.
“You are SUCH a naughty girl” he said as he climbed into the soaking wet, soggy bed and put his arms around me.
“And what is THIS ?” he said as his hands explored the enormous bulge at the back of my panties.
“I told you … I’ve been very naughty.”
“Urrghhhhhh.” He said with intensity, “Turn over and let me see.”
I turned slowly onto my stomach and I heard his sharp intake of breath, and then he was turning me over again and pulling aside my panties, and entering me, and I could feel everything still squashing under me, ……. and I had my third shuddering orgasm on a Sunday morning in early March … while the birds w

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