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I hear the bathroom door click shut and then a snick indicating she’s locked it behind her.
The pitter patter of water is what I hear next, and then she starts humming.
Fucking humming like everything is normal.
When in fact, since four o’clock this afternoon nothing has been normal. Actually, since I left Santa Monica nothing has been normal.
I appear to have walked into another dimension.
I look back at my front door and then all around to confirm this is, in fact, my house.
Slowly making my way across the hall, I look inside the kitchen and sure enough, the warm glow from the oven confirms my dinner is in the oven. My glass dining table has one place set with a glass of wine poured and Pom-pom is rolled into a tight ball, already fast asleep.
Dazed, I walk up the stairs, the faint sound of Violet showering in the background.
Stepping into my bedroom, I discover a wall of bottles filled with perfume, potions, and lotions lining the top of my chest of drawers. Next to it, a new dresser that wasn’t here this morning or ever, is littered with tiny black makeup pots, lipsticks, a small lilac leather jewelry box, and a vase full of fresh purple flowers.
She fucking moved herself in. When?
I’m so flabbergasted I can’t do anything else but look around. I rub my hands down my face, as if to wake me up and open my eyes.
Nope, her stuff is still here.
On the nightstand is a thick rainbow design planner and resting on top is her pink vibrating wand.
Is this for real?
Double-checking her moving in status, I fling open the double doors to my walk-in closet. Half of my suits have been replaced with an array of purple dresses. Leather handbags line the back wall that used to house my collection of designer sneakers.
I fall onto the black leather chair in the middle of the closet and look around.
I’m having a sliding door moment.
I sit here for a while staring at all her things.
There’s even a stack of multicolored planners lined up in one of the storage cubes.
Eventually, I get up and check a few drawers. When I pull out one of my underwear drawers, I’m startled when instead of picking up a pair of my boxers, I pull out a pair of the tiniest pink lace panties. I hold them up to my face between my thumbs and forefingers.
Motherfucker!
“Oh, thanks. I’ll put them on.” Violet grabs them out of my hand.
My mouth turns dry as she drops her towel in front of me.
She proceeds to lotion her naked sun-kissed skin with that fresh-as-fuck scent she wears.
I groan when she rubs the cream across her tits, making her nipples pebble. Her hands dip lower over her stomach, over her hips, and I know she’s teasing me when she moisturizes her bare pussy lips, making them wet, inviting me to touch them.
“Enjoying the show?” she says seductively with that fucking sweet as honey California accent.
I swear someone stuffed my head full of cotton candy and for the first time in weeks my dick twitches in my boxers as my cock finally wakens up from his hibernation period.
Violet exits my closet, wiggling her plump ass into my bedroom. My cock goes rock hard in an instant as she jiggles about my bedroom.
Unable to move or take my eyes off her, I need something to prop me up and I lean against the doorjamb as I’m unable to comprehend what is happening.
She pulls on her lace panties, a pair of booty shorts, then slips a giant white tee shirt over her head.
