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My movement must have woken him because as soon as I moved, he moved too. And when he moved, it was towards me. More precisely, it was with his chest touching my back and his arm wrapped around me. Did he know he was doing this? Should I do something to get him off of me so he had fewer things to regret in the morning?
I was about to wiggle to wake him up again when instead, I moved my hand to touch his. As our fingers met, his lightly tightened onto mine, and I immediately fell asleep.
The next morning, remembering what Claude and I had done the night before, my eyes popped open. It was late. Looking around expecting to find Claude, he wasn’t there. Nor was his stuff.
I was sure I had heard him move it into the bedroom last night. But this morning it was gone. He was gone. As I had thought, what we had done had been too much for him. He had disappeared on me again.
Scrambling out of bed as panic set in, I rushed into the living room. It looked like it had before he had moved in, empty. He had left me. We had had sex and it had ruined everything.
Spiraling into despair, tears welled in my eyes. I couldn’t take this. Why did I keep messing things up? I was the screw-up Papa always treated me as. I didn’t deserve to be loved. I wasn’t worthy of anything.
That was when I heard a key enter the lock and the door open. I swung around to find a sweaty Claude entering the apartment. Taking one look at me, he said,
“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
I quickly wiped my tears away.
“What are you talking about? I always cry in the mornings.”
“No. You always jack off in the mornings,” he said, correcting me as he got a glass of water.
“That was one time!”
He gave me a disbelieving look.
“It was a couple of times. I was in the midst of going through a lot of stress.”
“We were on a camping trip at Mount Rainier.”
“Oh, you were talking about then. Well, that was because I didn’t think you were awake.”
“I wasn’t until you started jacking off.”
To my humiliation, he began to imitate me whimpering as I hid an orgasm.
“Ah, ah.”
“Shut up!” I protested. “And where were you just now?” I asked, changing the subject.
“I’ve decided to go back to doing my morning runs. It feels good.”
“Where’s your stuff?”
“I put everything away. I hope you don’t mind; I claimed a part of your closet and drawers. I don’t have a lot, so you still have plenty of room.”
“No, that’s fine,” I said, overwhelmed with relief. “I probably should have offered it to you before instead of making you live out of your bag.”
“You probably should have,” he said, teasing me on the way to the bathroom. “I’m taking a shower.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said, teasing him back.
To my surprise, Claude’s next workout was the best yet. He had shaved a full second and a half off his 50-yard dash, which was huge. And his cross-field passes were perfectly on point.
“Do you know what the difference is?” He asked me after I showed him the stats.
“Your morning run?” I asked, hoping he would say it was having his dick in my ass.
“Yeah, that’s it,” he replied, looking away disappointed.
