Gabrielle Gassin

It used to be a regular occurrence. Three or four times a week, the day would begin wrapped within the flesh of the other. From deep sleep the journey to surface involved one hand sleepily, slowly feeling the outer thigh of another with one nose to the other’s neck, warm breath and warming loins in preparation to greet the other, good morning, beautiful human.

Both still technically asleep but that was the depth of the bond between them; waking or sleeping state, they had to be fused together for love and ecstasy.

She would dream of him all the time, his firmness pushing against her as he too dreamt of only her touch. It was difficult to know what was real but it was always possible to make vivid what had actually played out in the realm of deep sleep, once the day had broken and it was time to rise and live.

Now, things are different. There is more than one male figure in the bed, and two extra bodies between them separate their physicality. No, the mornings no longer belong to this couple whose connection still causes the heart to flutter. Having children will do that, apparently. Goodbye for now, morning sex!