I love your pale skin. You never tan and you never will. Going out in the sun for any length of time is an exercise in applying sunscreen to avoid being pink with sunburn for days.
There’s a scattering of freckles on your upper arms, where your skin has seen the most sun, and across the back of your neck. I like to trace them with my fingers when we’re lying around feeling lazy. Or slide my fingers down your broad back, between your shoulder blades.
Sometimes we sleep spooned, and I curl my body around yours, my face tucked into the curve of your neck, thighs pressed against your arse, arm laying across your chest.
Other times I will tuck myself under your arm, resting my head on your chest, just under your neck. I love to snuggle with you.
I have a whole king bed to myself here, but I still sleep only on one side.
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