Early morning light hits the table next to where he sits and bounces up into his face, amplifying his distress. Deeply furrowed brow. Downturned corners of his lips. Out of the bedroom, she comes to him, standing in the open space between his legs. She wraps her arms around his head. His face is buried in the fabric between her breasts. He can’t breathe but this is preferable to the not-breathing he was doing just a moment ago.

He opens his mouth to take the fabric and tit meat into his mouth, biting. No response from her so he bites down harder. This will mark. She grunts. And then inhales quickly. He releases her, pulling her shirt up her back as he does. She raises her arms and in one movement, the shirt comes off. He runs hands up and down her bare back, the texture of her skin between velvet and satin.

The bite mark is red, clearly defined, and still wet. He takes the other breast into his mouth and makes an equal mark. She’s breathing hard and her chest swells her body closer to him. He releases her again, blowing on her new wound. The nipples in close proximity getting harder.

He lifts her and places her on the table in front of him, spreading her legs and pushing her back onto her elbows. He takes a deep breath before hooking her panties with his forefinger and tugging to expose her sex. Neither of them move for a moment. Each is looking at what they most like to see.

The sun shines on them. They glow.