The bed is warm. I can't quite recall how we got here. It's all a big haze of soft kisses, entwined fingers and giggly conversations in the back seat of the Uber. I do remember his fingers sliding around mine at the restaurant, holding hands across the table while I got too excited about the waiter bringing us the post dinner cheese plate. His dark eyes watching me as I messily cut into the brie and tore bread and dipped the cheese coated knife into the fig preserve. I remember laughing at my reflection in the window, red wined stained teeth matching my dark lipstick but making my glittery eyeshadow look stupid. But I don't remember how many steps lead up to the apartment. I don't remember anything before my hungry kiss at his front door.
The pillow behind me is too soft. Full of feathers and I honestly don't understand how anyone can feel supported by it. It's making me angry. Who has these stupid pillows, don't the tips of the feathers scratch you while you sleep? I try to focus on something else but the only thing to pop to mind is that he's naked and in the shower. Naked and standing there, slowly rubbing suds all over him. Naked and letting hot water roll off his body and slip down the drain, imagining all of his negative energy flowing away. I have to think about something else. Naked and wet and I'm on his bed waiting for him to emerge with steam pouring off his shoulders and a half wet towel draped around his waist.
Why didn't we shower together? This is so stupid. It's too soon for us to share that much intimacy, but I'm here on his bed waiting. I'm here thinking about his firm body pressing against mine.
Oh he's out, the water is off and he emerges towel draped and steaming, just like in my imagination. It's my turn. This is awkward, why didn't we just shower together! I step past him his still damp arm brushing against me as I walk past. The door closes softly and I lean against it for a heart beat, imagining him doing the same thing. Ugh that's so lame how ridiculous.
I let the water run before stripping, my skin shivering in the cool air of the bathroom. Arms crossed over my chest I let the water run through my hair and down my back. All of the bottle of goop in his shower look the same so I squirt the best smelling one onto my hand and sud up my body. Hard nipples slip between my fingers as I slide my hand over my wet body, imagining him feeling me. My back presses against the cold tiles sending a quiver down my spine. Fingers soaping myself up, running over my stomach and thighs and stopping just short of the heat between my legs.
How long have I been in here for? Why did I wet my hair it's going to take forever to dry off? Fuck. I turn the tap and reach for a towel, smelling of the hot sun I assume that it dried in earlier that morning. His sink is clean and tidy. A black toothbrush, a well used razor and a tube of toothpaste squeezed within an inch of its life. I remember my red wine teeth and breath and lick toothpaste off my finger with my tongue and swallow before opening the door.
He laughs. I must look like a drowned rat. I tousle my hair in the wet towel he's hung over his bedroom door and he lifts the sheet and tells me not to worry about the wet hair, "just get in here quickly I miss you." YUCK that's so fucking lame but stupid me can't help jumping on the bed soaked towel and all to get under that sheet as quickly as possible. I untangle myself from the many layers of sheet and towel and lean my body against him. A forehead kiss, a kiss on the tip of my nose an electric feeling in my pussy jolts and we are making out. Slowly, luxuriously, gently.
