You're warm. So warm under her, pliant and soft. Just how she likes it, you are in bed with her, sleeping, with no more than a few snores or grunts filling the room's silence. Your face is positively buried into her chest. This is heaven. She'd typically flip you over and spoon you, but she's feeling extra nice this morning. That doesn't stop her from smelling your neck and gripping the soft flesh of your thighs with her calloused hands. She's kneading them with her palms gently.