#36) The Morning After the Night Before

He wakes up the next morning to a negative of the tableau the night before.
Light streams in where it was dark before.
He’s the one in the fetal position, and she leans against the headboard,
bare-chested, looking down at him warmly.
It registers that it’s Saturday, and he hopes that they can frolic (fuck) the day away,
but the first words she says are, “I got a call, they want me at work…”
“Oh, okay, I’ll get dressed.”
“You don’t have to, take your time, fix yourself some breakfast, take a shower…”
They’ve only dated several times, trusting someone inside her sex isn’t the same as trusting them free-reign in your home in today’s world.
If positions were reversed, he doesn’t know what he would do.
“Okay,” he smiles, feeling the strengthening of the bond between, “…if you’re sure…”
Diane smiles serenely and starts to dress and he aches for her anew.
“Can’t I convince you to stay for just a bit?” he pleads, catching her by the hips and planting a kiss on her ass crack just before she pulls a pair of panties up. He pull her down on top of him, and she sees that just this glancing buss of her bum has inspired an erection.
“Save it ’til tonight,” she breathes. “We can get together again tonight…?”
He nods and kisses her deeply. And then she is gone.
He does take a shower, but passes on raiding her pantry.
Someone else might have rifled through her panty drawer, but he’s been everywhere those underpants have been. They hold no intrigue.
Another guy might have searched out her vibrator. But Diane has a whole bureau that she calls her toy chest, and they’ve played with all its contents already.
So he studies her bookshelves to get to know Diane’s inner self.

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