I always wake up with such a hard fucking cock and instant perverted thoughts and the first thread of an intricately detailed fantasy, ready to be woven and hung up for display.
Hypersexuality is an insomniac. IT's not interested in sexual dreams. I never have sexual dreams. IT wants me to be conscious. IT demands no less than your full waking attention.
And IT will simply just wait for as long as it takes for you to wake up before pressing Play on Episide 572 of Season 7732 of the perverted sexual fantasies show running through my head.
I'm already stroking my cock and playing with my balls, your pussy scent still on my fingers.
Your lay sleeping on your front next you me. Your smooth young, marked-up back raising and falling as you breathe. Your hair, messy, with my dried cum from where I'd cum on your face.
I pull your cum stained panties to just below your bruised butt cheeks and slide my precum slicked Dadcock up inside you as you dozily murmur "Good Morning, Daddy".
I'm now pinning you with my body weight to the bed, I've turned you head to the side with my hand, and my tongue is flicking around inside your mouth.
I return the greeting into your mouth. And tell you what a good girl you were last night and how proud I am of you for being the perfect fuckwhore.
You speak around my tongue and back into my mouth. You ask me to please use you again, you need it and how happy it makes you when I tell you you've been useful and pleased me.
I answer that by fucking the whole of my cock up inside you until my balls covered in last night's dried pussy juices, slam into your dried cum covered tight fuckhole, just like it was so few hours ago.