I'm swimming in the grey-zone between dreaming and awakening. I'm dog-tired and know it must be early 'cause my whole body feels heavy and limp and I'm not able to pry my eyes open. But something must have disturbed my sleep …

Goosebumps are rising from my neck traveling along my shoulders and arms. That's when I realize that someone is kissing my neck and that very special spot between my neck and my collar. The one that always turns me into putty in his hands.

House, I think rather flustered. Horndog! This isn't the first time he's waken me up because he wants to have sex but I'm tired, really I am! So I pretend to sleep, maybe he'll get bored and jack off in the bathroom. Which wouldn't count for having sex at all. The Housian counting system for sex is rather simple: anal sex counts for having sex, two blow jobs counts as much as one time anal sex and anything else doesn't count at all. Also, he has invented the rule that he has got to be laid three times a week per minimum.

Furthermore, House doesn't like to bottom. Not that I really mind, he is way too marvelous when he takes me … On the other hand, I'm really sore sometimes. Especially after the weekends where I have to make it up to him for the lack of sex during the week. I don't really mind the soreness as it gives me the opportunity to whine about it. Playing the guilt-card works every time to trick him into allowing me to cuddle him. I have trouble suppressing a smile spreading over my face at this thought. Instead I squint at the clock, groaning as I see that it's not even six on Sunday morning. I could bite myself in the ass 'cause now House knows that I'm awake.

“So, you are awake,” he purrs into my ear, sending new waves of goosebumps all over my body.

“Do you happen to know how early it is?” I ask, putting as much annoyance in my voice as possible. I am still tired!

“Don't care!” he rumbles in a low and sexy voice.

“You care about this a lot when it's a work day!”

“It's not a work day and I didn't get my three lays for this week,” he whines.

Great! Couldn't this wait for, let's say, at least another two hours? Stupid question, of course this is asking too much of him! I reply rather petulantly, “I'm tired! Go watch some porn and take care of your problem yourself. I wanna sleep.”

A startled yelp escapes me as he rolls me on my back, glowering at me. I swallow hard remembering this expression. It is one of dejection and he will be cranky for the rest of the day if I don't do anything about it immediately. I sigh, “Come here, you old horndog.”

I guide his face to mine and kiss him. I still don't want to have sex 'cause I am tired! I know, I'm repeating myself but I am so tired that I don't have any power to coordinate my limbs. Suddenly House is lying on top of me and my legs are spreading on their own volition. Well, not so uncoordinated anymore, huh?

House cards with his hands through my hair and drops little kisses along my jaw-line. At the same time he lowers himself onto me, bringing our erections together. Embarrassingly I groan rather loudly at this contact and feel my penis coming to life. We are still naked from last night's love making, although I won't ever call it this out loud again. Did this once and … uh, better forget about it! Doesn't mean I can't call it love-making in my head.

House is already panting fast and shallow and it sounds really loud. Oops, guess I'm the loud one here but … Geez, he's doing this thing with his tongue again! I cry out as he bites my nipple, my penis now paying full attention to the situation. I open my glazed eyes to stare into his glimmering blue ones, drowning in them. He doesn't say that he loves me aloud; his eyes have to do all the speaking. I'm grateful for that, however corny that may sound.

I'm shuddering at the sensation of one of his hands encircling my dick and stroking it much too slowly. I can't hold my eyes open so I let them fall shut and lose myself in his ministrations. Guess what, I'm not the tiniest bit tired anymore! From far away I register the clicking noise coming from lid from of the lube bottle and my body is tingling expectantly. One of his wonderful fingers vanish into my cleft and starts to brush against my opening. I'm whimpering and eagerly spread my legs open even more; inviting him. He takes the invitation and presses into me, probing and teasing.

“God! Could you get on with it?” I can hardly speak so my demand sounds rather breathless.

He's chuckling and grins at me, “Thought you're tired? Maybe I really should let you sleep?”

He withdraws his fingers, leaving me all flustered and needy. Asshole! I can't help it and glare at him as I hiss, “Don't you dare stop now!”

He's shaking his head in fake-annoyance and I back down and play under his rules. “Please?” I plead in a husky voice.

“Normally I would tease you till you really beg but to be honest, this would be a torment for me,” House's voice sounds strained.

He's tearing up the foil of a condom, groaning as he slides it over his erection. I'm a bit confused by the pained expression on his face. It must show on my own face because he gives me a small smile.

“This is going to be over quickly. I've been in this condition for the last hour and a half,” he explains.

A full assault on my mouth follows and he settles back between my legs. I tuck them up, hoping that he's up for this position. Obviously he is and I wonder briefly how many vicodin are already circulating through his blood. He guides his stiff penis to my entrance and I put my hooked legs to his shoulders. I can feel myself blushing; it's still somewhat embarrassing to be in this position. Although I should be used to it by now, after almost two years. I'm mumbling a complaint when he gets up from me again. What the hell …?

A pillow is shifted under my ass and I understand. House is back on me just a second later and another second later we resume our previous position and finally he is pressing into me. His head is resting on my chest, his breath tickles me and I'm sweating and tingling all over. When he's half way in I push back in pure neediness, wanting more, faster; all the while babbling encouraging words. We're both panting heavily. Okay, I'm not panting I'm wheezing and whimpering and desperately wishing he would move.

He takes his time and when he looks at me it is almost my undoing. My penis twitches and leaks a few drops of precome, eliciting a smug smile on his face. I roll my eyes at this, “Alright, alright, you're my personal sex-god. Now, could you please fuck me properly?”

He's jerking inside me which causes me to clamp around him, leaving us both moaning at the sensations. He pushes his upper body up and plants his hands next to my shoulders. My knees are almost pressed to my chest and I'm sure that I will regret my current position tomorrow.

Then he starts moving, slowly in the beginning, aiming for the right angle to hit my prostate. He's successful and I'm turned into a screaming and cursing mess. My fingers are digging into the muscles of his biceps; there will certainly be marks there afterwards. I never told him that 'cause I'm unsure of his reaction but the odd slant of his thrusts does incredible things to my lower body. His stubble is scrapping over my nipples which is a delightful counterpart to his moist tongue lapping there.

“You almost there?” he pants. Again with the pained expression on his face. He's waiting for me but I'm not there. Almost though. Talking is out of the question so I just shake my head.

“Touch yourself,” he demands, “and be quick.”

I am. I sneak a hand between our bellys, gasping as I stroke myself, struggling to find the right rhythm to his thrusts. I'm screaming now at every thrust and feel him jerking and shuddering as his thrusts become more and more erratic. I can't stand it anymore and clench hard around his dick, sending him over the edge in an instant. I love the feeling of his pulsating dick in me but can't dwell in this feeling for long. He howls my name as he rides out the waves of his climax and this sends me jumping over the edge rather violently. Even in my own ears my screams of endearment sound deafening.

He collapses onto my slippery stomach; we're both trying to catch our breath. I haul my shaking legs down from his shoulders, wincing at the movement. Tomorrow will be one of these days where I'm better off with doing rounds and such things. Anything to avoid sitting down.

My semen is getting cold and sticky. House is getting very heavy and limp and that's an indicator for him being only seconds away from falling asleep. I push at him, “You're heavy! Get up!”

“You're such a romantic!” he replies drowsily but complies. At least a bit. He slides down next to me; leaving one half of him sprawled out over me. His head rests in the crook of my arm, a warm feeling floods through me as I watch his relaxed face. I won't tell him that I love him. He already knows that. I'm surprised to see his eyes flutter open again. A big grin is plastered all over my face when he says, “Me too.”

I love to be awakened early on Sunday mornings …

End