AllFreeNovel
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Our transition from the bed to the bathroom isn’t smooth.
Or quick.
There’s a lot of maneuvering around wet objects and laughing while trying to avoid making bigger messes, both of which are relatively rare experiences for me.
Typically, my post sex cleanup is pretty simple.
Condom gets trashed.
Clothes get put back in place.
Compliments and “had a good time” kisses given prior to the woman proposing we do it again sometime.
I get out of my truck, help her out, and then go home.
Alone.
On the occasion – usually vacation – there’s bed action like this; however, I can’t recall the last time it gotthismessy.
Or lastedthislong.
Or wasn’t uncomfortable because one of us was ready for the other person to leave so that they could shower, shit, and text their best friend who was working too hard at the office.
Post getting things mopped up, in the wash, and that blowjob I talked myself out of, yet fucked myself back into, we rush to get ready for the day we’re now running behind on. Breakfast for her and coffee for me – this timewithbutter – are grabbed on the go under the agreement we’ll have a proper meal together when I get back from my assignment.
The same assignment that irks her to know so very little about.
“I don’t understand why I can’t have more information,” Arley pouts, fingertips brushing her loose, brown locks away from her face. “I mean I do have top level clearance.”
“Yes, but you are also theclient,” I gingerly remind while backing out of my parking space. “And theclientisn’t meant to be privy to the ins and outs of every op.”
“You know I used to love it when you would say op? It was almost like secret spy novel sexy, and now? Now, it might be my least favorite O word.”
“Bet I know what your favorite O word is.” The impish waggle of my brow receives an equally playful swat to my stomach. “Hey! You want us to crash?”
“Puh-lease,” she giggles during a headshake. “You’ve driven in much crazier conditioners than this.” Arley lifts her homemade jalapeno cream cheese covered bagel to her pink glossed lips. “With me in the car!”
“Truck.”
“Vehicle.”
Her refusal to say exactly what I want causes me to chuckle as I pull into traffic. “Have you always been this stubborn?”
“Absolutely.”
More laughs absentmindedly leave me.
My woman waits until I arrive at my first stoplight to lift her bread my direction. “Bite?”
I probably shouldn’t.
“I know you’reactuallyhungry.”
Yeah, but it’s better to have my system stacked with the optimal formula I know is best for top performance.
Especially in these circumstances.
“And I know the harder you work out, the hungrier you get.”
