The only way to start the day – an erotic story by Shauntionne Mosley.

Solo Sessions

Between 4 and 8am is my favorite time of day. When the sky begins to transition and the sun groggily rises with the rest of us. Most creatures in this world rely on instincts, coffee or an alarm to knock them into wakefulness at this hour, but not I. 

 I rely on a mirror. The faded shades of blue from dawn’s break seep through my blinds to ripple and dance across exposed brick, turning my room into an enchanted cave where I, the goddess that dwells there, steal lustful glances of my reflection through low, red eyes. 

Stubbing out my morning blunt in my trusty nightstand ashtray, the mirror holds my gaze. It sits atop a large dresser before my bed, where it has perfectly captured every captivating orgasm. Crawling on my knees, I seductively move towards the end of the bed, diving down slowly to let my barely-there T-shirt reveal a tiny, stretch marked ass, daring the sun to kiss it.

What I lack in the ass department I make up for in breasts. They are unashamedly my favorite part of my body – 32E means they’re big enough for me to grab a handful and let them both spill out like Play-Doh (they’re just as soft). I used to hate my saucer sized areolas but now my tongue runs over every bump of them, only stopping periodically to flick my nipples. I never take my eyes off myself and if you have a brain, you wouldn’t either. My barber, Shear’s in the southside, gets my haircut just right every fucking time. With a low-cut fade? It’s like I’m even more naked.

The sugar water stream pours onto my favorite throw blanket on top of my comforter. I don’t care. Just like a kid isn’t thinking about a cavity on Halloween, and my shit’s sweeter than anything a pumpkin bag could hold. I can hear the traffic outside as people race to work. I look in the mirror once more as I put two fingers in my mouth and suck off the remaining residue and smile triumphantly. 