Afternoon Stretch

Bright sunlight was streaming in through almost worthless mini-blinds when I first realized I was awake. Painfully bright sunlight. I groaned and rolled over putting my back to the window, pulling a pillow over my head. I groaned again, in a somewhat reversed stretch, pushing my right hand between my thighs to grab the back of my left knee and pull myself into a tight fetal position before I reversed that into a full-out sweeping stretch.

As I uncurled into the stretch, my hand swept from my knee along the inside of my thighs, brushed past my still sleeping cunt with no notice and traced from my pelvis, across to my naked side, past my shoulder and reached the full length of my already outstretched left arm where it interlaced delicately manicured fingers with its counterpart and together they drew themselves into a high and fast arc over the now cast aside pillow then plunged down beyond it with enough strength or enough surprise to draw my shoulders into the same path, setting off a chain reaction: the arc of my hands pulled my shoulders into arching my back into stretching my legs and I drew in a breath as deep as my fully stretched lungs could accept. When that breath reached it’s limit, my bare body seemed almost suspended as it held the almost erotic limits of it’s stretch, and I hovered there, a series of long arches, only my heels, my hips, my shoulders and the top of my head touching the mattress. Hands pushing against the headboard they more often pulled against, my plump nipples straining for the ceiling, tightening atop my small round breasts. Then I was released.

With a great sigh of relief, I slumped gently back to the mattress. My hands traced and chased eachother back to my shoulders and in sweeping circles on my stomache and across my now fully aroused tits until the left one settled on my right breast, pinching, pulling and gently thumping against my hardened nipple. My right hand, in turn, settled into the hollow between my thighs, just in that crease where my legs become cunt becomes hips becomes me. That place where, despite the uproar caused by the unexpected stretch, my shaved and sweet little kitty was still napping. And she was warm, too.

But why wouldn’t she be warm? I could tell even before I dared to peek through my eyelids that the amount of light in my room meant that it must be close to noon, probably a little later, and I had been sleeping in the sunlight under my favorite “binky” for several hours…

“Nice try,” I thought to myself grinning and pulling again–harder–on my right nipple before reaching for the left one as well.