I opened my eyes to see her laying on her side, watching me sleep. She offered a little smile.
"Hey, you," I said sleepily, and offered a smile back.
It was late spring. The weather had been pleasant, which had kept me in an extra good mood.
"Hey," she replied. She gazed at me a few seconds more. "You want to eat breakfast?"
"I want to poop dinner," I said. I was in a playful mood.
She exhaled a singular laugh. "Okay. I'm going to have a quick shower first. ... If you can hold it."
"No problem," I said, snuggling into my pillow, smiling.
She rolled off her side of the bed, went into the bathroom and shut the door.
After a few more minutes of enjoying the comfort of the bed, I decided to get up and eat a bowl of cereal while she was showering.
In the kitchen, I noticed her freshly used bowl and spoon in the sink. She had already eaten.
I took my clean bowl and spoon from the nearby drainrack and began preparing a small breakfast.
The bathroom door opened as I was finishing, and I watched her walk across the hall, wearing a towel. I was slightly disappointed when she diappeared into the bedroom and shut the door.
I put my bowl inside hers and took my turn in the bathroom, which was still a little steamy and heady with the scent of her soap. It was a light scent, but the heat and moisture magnified it.
I lifted the toilet lid, pushed down my boxer briefs and sat down to relieve myself.
After about five minutes, I heard the bedroom door open, and a moment later she stepped into the bathroom.
She had decided to wear her boots with her white calf-high socks pushed down. She also wore her shorter black tee dress that she usually reserved for days when she was feeling a little flirty.
She walk over to me, straddled my knees and sat down facing me with her arms resting on my shoulders.
Apparently she was indeed feeling a little flirty. She looked me in the eye with a little smile. I did the same.
"I'm going shopping," she said, which meant that I would not be joining her, which suggested that I might be pleasantly surprised, later. Not asking, plus flirty, usually equals happy me.
That prospect, plus the fact that her bare thighs were on me, started bringing me to attention. Maybe she noticed a micro-expression, but somehow she knew and looked down at my macro-expansion.
She looked back up with slightly raised eyebrows.
"No blumpkins," she joked, with a playful sterness.
I chuckled. "No blumpkins," I replied, in complete agreement.
She gave me a quick kiss on the lips, then stood up and turned away, sliding her right fingers along the left side of my face as she walked to the door way, then out.
I concluded my business and took a shower of my own, leaving my erection to fade naturally.
I brushed my teeth, put on some clean underwear and shorts, and then washed the dishes.
It was Saturday, so I checked the mail, finding nothing. Either she got it and took it with her or we didn't get anything. I liked when we didn't get mail. It offered me a small illusion that no one else in the world knew where we were.
Sometimes I entertained a fantasy or two that featured me and her as the only remaining people on earth, or just living happily shipwrecked on an unknown island somewhere.
Back inside the apartment, I turned on the TV for a bit. Played on my phone for a while. Pretty much did as little as possible on a lovely lazy weekend.
I was laying on the couch watching TV, when my phone vibrated and chimed on my chest, alerting me to a new text message.
It was from her.
[Is your dick hard?]
Well, I certainly didn't expect that.
[Not at the moment.] I replied. But that could easily change.
[Make your dick hard for me]
[Um. Are you on your way home?] I casually rubbed my crotch, but my confusion inhibited my results.
[No]
I was a little short on incentive, but I pushed down my shorts and underwear and began stroking.
[I just want you to be hard for me right now]
Okay. That's working pretty well.
[Tell me when you're hard]
[I want to know]
And there it is. Was she fingering herself in the store?
I imagined her in a grocery store, nearly empty of people. She sitting on the cold floor, panties being stretched by her knees desperately trying to spread further apart to make more room for her hand moving quickly in a circular motion.
I licked my hand and spread syliva and pre-cum all around the head, and up and down my shaft.
[I am incredibly hard thinking of you right now]
[Good]
[You want me to cum for you]
I continued jacking off, waiting. No reply. Maybe she was just too busy finger fucking herself. Yeah. Maybe she was moaning so loudly that she didn't hear her notification.
I set my phone on my chest and applied more syliva to my working palm. Around, down, up, around, down, up, around, down. Lick. Around, down, up, around, down, up, around, down. Rinse, repeat. Tighter. Up, down, up, down. Put the phone on the floor, just in case. Up, down, up, down, up, around, down. Balls tighten a moment. Oh, shit, yes. Balls tighten again. Fucking hell. Balls tighten again. Fuck. Slowly milk it.
I lay there a while, very relaxed. Hoping the doorbell doesn't ring. Why would it? Still, hoping it doesn't.
I shove my clothese the rest of way off and get off the couch, with my free hand positioned and ready to catch anything that might drip off of my fist.
I go to the bathroom and wash off in the shower. Dry off. Return to the living room and get redressed. I check my phone and find no new messages.
"I'm thirsty."
Some time later, I was sitting on the couch watching TV. The door opened and she walked in carrying a number of plastic grocery bags.
'Holy shit. She WAS at the grocery store.' I smiled internally.
She didn't look at me. She was facing the kitchen. Her free hand pushed the door behind her to let it swing shut on its own as she walked towards the kitchen. Her face was neutral.
She had something up her sleeve. Best to give it a minute to see where it goes. On rare occassion, I wish we weren't able to read each other so well. It makes it difficult for us to surprise each other. On the other hand, when we do truly surprise each other, the occassion is all the more meaningful.
As far as I know, she didn't know that I went to a manacurist, a few days ago, to get my nails well trimmed. She might have noticed that I had been using her lotion on my hands for a week, but I'm not sure. I wanted to make sure my fingers were nice and smooth, with no scrapey bits.
I listened to the sounds of her taking items out of the bag and putting them in the fridge. A brief moment later, some article of clothing dropped on my head.
I waited a moment for some cue, but nothing. I heard her walking toward the hallway. I pulled the article down from the front to find that it was the tee dress that she had just been wearing.
Okay, then.