Breakfast in Bed

By Andrea Dale

Jennie’s husband, Cal, wakes her up for a naughty meal involving a bit of restraint and some creative use of strawberries and crepes. Breakfast in bed never sounded so tasty—or sexy!—in this wickedly delicious short story from legendary erotica heavy-hitter Andrea Dale.

“Breakfast in Bed” originally appeared in Afternoon Delight: Erotica for Couples (Cleis Press, 2009).

• Language: English
• Publisher: Soul's Road Press
• Release date: Apr 5, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370051212

Andrea Dale

Called a “legendary erotica heavy-hitter” (by the über-legendary Violet Blue), ANDREA DALE writes sizzling erotica with a generous dash of romance. Her work appeared in the LAMBDA-award-winning anthology Lesbian Cowboys: Erotic Adventures and Romantic Times 4.5-star anthology Fairy Tale Lust, as well as about 100 other anthologies from Harlequin Spice, Avon Red, and Cleis Press. She finds passion in rock music, clever words, piercing blue eyes, the wind in her hair, and the scent of the ocean. Visit www.cyvarwydd.com for more information.

Book preview

Breakfast in Bed

Breakfast in Bed

Andrea Dale

Soul’s Road Press

Contents

About This Book

Breakfast in Bed

About the Author

Also by Andrea Dale

Give In

Naughty in Nature

In Her Hands

Chapter 1

About This Book

Jennie’s husband, Cal, wakes her up for a naughty meal involving a bit of restraint and some creative use of strawberries and crepes. Breakfast in bed never sounded so tasty—or sexy!—in this wickedly delicious short story from legendary erotica heavy-hitter Andrea Dale.

Breakfast in Bed originally appeared in Afternoon Delight: Erotica for Couples (Cleis Press, 2009).

Breakfast in Bed

Believe me, it was one of those good dreams. You know, the kind you just don’t want to end. It doesn’t even involve specific details, or flying, or the next day’s lottery numbers.

It involves sweaty limbs sliding across sweaty limbs, skin aflame with a thousand sensations, and a pleasurable throbbing pressure between your legs that intensifies, and you don’t have to do anything, just revel in the sensations and the coming orgasm, any second now…

The kind of dream that always—always, dammit—gets interrupted.

Spooned together, I felt my husband’s breath on the back of my neck, then a series of light, playful kisses at the nape. Struggling up through the layers of sleep, I murmured a protest.

The kids are at your mother’s, remember? he said, nibbling on my earlobe.

Right. I stifled a yawn, still unwilling to reach full wakefulness if I didn’t absolutely have to respond to a crisis. It took me another moment to full comprehend that Cal was feeling frisky and intent on taking full advantage of the fact that we would not be interrupted by a pair of small, shrieking pyjama-clad bodies that would fling themselves onto the bed and demand Count Chocula and the DVD of Shrek 2 for the billionth time.

I’d already gotten started in my dream, and I tried to recapture the sensations, the level of arousal. But as all dreams do, it was already fading, skittering away as if burned by the morning sun.

I snuggled back against Cal. His half-hard cock pressed into the crack of my ass, and it twitched in response to my encouraging wiggles.

Cal stroked my hip, moved his hand to my breast and caressed my nipple, lightly pinching. Thirteen years of marriage, and he knew what I liked.

Problem was, it was too much knowledge. Too much