It's starting to get late, and my eyes are beginning to tire. It has been a quiet evening. I'm in bed, reading a book and winding down for the night, waiting for you to return home from your shift at work. I glance at the red numbers of my alarm clock. It confirms to me what I already know...I should have closed the book and turned out my lamp a while ago.
Sighing, I place my bookmark and set my reading aside. I switch the light off and stretch a slow, full body stretch. I roll onto my side to face your half of the bed, and picture how you will be joining me soon. The shape of you beneath the covers, the curve your hip forms in the blanket. I touch your pillow, knowing that it will be cold, but imagining your heat. I wish you were here so I could press up against you and wrap you in my arms. I love how you feel against me, how we feel together. My dick hardens a bit, just as it does when we spoon, though at the moment you aren't here to feel it against your ass.
Smiling now, I turn over once more, ready to drift to sleep. Our bedroom is lit now only faintly by the light I left on for you downstairs. We like our little loft apartment. Our bed is snugged against the railing of the second floor, overlooking the living space below. I know from experience you will come in the front door, enjoy a snack, and then switch off the light before coming upstairs. You have become adept at this routine, able to execute it without waking me. In the morning I will discover you again. With that happy thought, I doze off.
***
Some time later, I partially wake up. Without my glasses, I can't be sure what the luminescent digits of my clock are trying to tell me. It is dark now, the downstairs light shut off. I know you must be home safe. Anticipating you, I carefully flip to my other side, yet am surprised to discover that you are not in bed. My sleep-addled mind processes this slowly. The light is off. You should be here! It occurs to me that you are in our bathroom, which adjoins the bedroom. As I wait for you to return, my eyes begin to close again.
Wait.
I open my eyes once more. The covers on your side have not been disturbed at all. I glance to the door of the bathroom. All I see is a dark blur, but there is no light coming from beneath the door as I'd expect. I squint at the clock. It's the middle of the night. Where are you?
With that thought, I hear you. I sit up, and I listen.
I know it's you, because I know those sounds. They are the sounds we elicit when we are together. They are sounds we inspire when we fuck. You are being quite soft, but I have a musician's ears. Your breathing is a bit heavy, and at irregular intervals you moan, ever so slightly.
Sleep recedes from me further, I become more alert. It sounds like you are downstairs.
It sounds like you are not alone!