I woke when the moon was setting, and the first rays of day were just peeking over the hill we had climbed last night.
It was so luscious to be lying next to his muscular frame, and I caressed his chest, running my hands over his brown nipples, and rubbed my foot up and down his hairy leg.
Looking around, I suddenly realized I no longer had the cloak of night to escort me home. I hadn't quite thought this through.
I sat up, wiping my face, pushing my hair back, trying to think.
"Jonah," I whispered. "Jonah!" I poked him. "I need some clothes."
He opened his eyes slowly and they met my breasts, dangling right at eye level.
"What do you have that could fit me?"
He smiled lazily. "Not much."
I got up, looking around. I picked up discarded clothing from the pile on the floor. It was all so huge!
"Uh, look in that drawer," he motioned. "I think I have a T-shirt from fourth grade in there."
I found a rather mangy faded red shirt with a hole in it. Well, it would have to do.
"Do you have any biking shorts? You know, the tight kind?"
"Uh, maybe."
I sorted through drawers, and found some spandex shorts I thought wouldn't fall off me. At least I had hips and a butt to keep them up.
Putting the outfit on, I was sure I was quite a sight. Hopefully there wouldn't be an audience this early in the morning. I carefully avoided the small mirror on his wall.
"'Bye lover," I leaned over and kissed him.
I threw the afghan over me and waltzed out the door.
I took the same path home that I had come, and hoped I was too far away for the old woman who looked out her window at me to recognize, traipsing across the hill near my house. A person could go for an early morning walk, now, couldn't they?
I snuck in through my window and curled up in my bed. Returning to sleep was a delicious prospect.
****
When I finally got up, Paul was gone, and I had the house to myself. I hummed, putting water on to boil for tea, washing dishes, doing laundry.
But every time I though of Jonah, it was like my body was on red alert again.
I decided I should wait till the weekend before I saw him; and when I did, he said he'd been busy, but he didn't say doing what.
When I couldn't see him, thoughts of him put me in overdrive, and my fingers reached to my own nipples, my own dark, dank cavern. The energy was compelling, and it only seemed to be getting more virulent. My idle was stuck on high, and it wouldn't downshift.
I called him on the phone one afternoon when Paul was at work.
"Jonah, I'm so hot for you, I don't know what to do with myself," I pleaded. "I swear, my body's plugged into a high voltage circuit, and I feel like I'm on overload."
"I'll be right over," he replied.
I paced the floor, waiting for him to arrive. I shoved peanuts into my mouth, crunching them nervously.
He looked through the screen of the back door at me, and I gestured, "Come in come in!"
I hugged him, holding him around his middle, and he felt so solid and good. He kissed me gently.
"Peanuts, huh."
"Yeah. You want some?"
He shook his head.
"Jonah, I..."
"Shhh," he purred.
He held my back with one large hand, and stroked my hair with the other, bumping down my blond curls.
"Shhh. You wanna lie down?"
I nodded. He took my hand and led me to the bedroom.
I lay on the bed on my back, and he lay on his side next to me. He placed his hand on my belly over my clothes.
I closed my eyes. My head and my clit were buzzing and my temples hurt. But in my belly was this solid, calm, soothing weight. As I focused on it, it seemed to draw me down into this vacuum of darkness and weightlessness. The buzzing was slipping into a drain, and I was falling off a cliff that had no bottom. Then I was in the water, swaying like a reed with the current, and I had no head.
I fell into a deep sleep, and when I woke I felt very groggy.
Jonah was in the kitchen. I called him, and he came to the door with a sandwich in his hand, chewing.
He came over and sat on the edge of the bed.
