NOTES FROM THE AUTHOR:
This is the 4
th
part to my "Patty" series. I thank you all for reading with me.
These two fictional characters are based on a real couple. I try to keep their decisions in line with the real live couple, even though I take creative liberties with the actual story. Of course, I'm not inside of their heads, but I have a fairly good idea of how they think based on my relationship with them and the time I've spent with them.
I hope you all enjoy.
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Patrick awakened to the sunlight greeting him through the open blinds. The sounds of a winter morning in full gear told him of an hour that was much too late. The voices of his neighbors as they shoveled snow. Cars driving over a slushy road. Even the wind seemed to be full of activity. Since he got sober, Patrick had become accustomed to beating the sun in a race to greet the world. It felt strangely reminiscent of his alcohol days to finally lose.
Another familiar sensation: the pounding head of a hangover. He definitely drank too much last night.
He groggily groaned as he tried to raise his head from the pillow, which he instantly regretted. The throbbing in his skull chastised him and reminded him that the softness of the pillow was his friend. He complied and sank even further into it.
"Just five more minutes."
he lied to himself as he closed his eyes.
He had almost slipped back off into sleep when he felt the bed move beside him. A rustling beneath the very comforter he was under disturbed him. He opened his eyes just in time to see a slender arm snake around his torso. Clearing the blankets away, Patrick was in for the shock of his life.
"Good morning, Patty." Kendra said with a yawn, her eyes fluttering open.
Oh shit.
His head finally had enough energy to lift. A quick survey around the room told him that he wasn't sleeping in his own bed. He wasn't in his own room. If he'd not been so hungover, he would've put together the clues a lot sooner.
This king-sized bed was much too soft to be his.
The extra fluffy pillow he was sleeping on felt too high a quality for anything he'd have bought. Plus, it smelled like lavender. His at home smelled like sweat.
The voices of neighbors shoveling? He lived in an apartment building. Neighbors didn't shovel snow. They complained about it to the complex managers.
Even still, this unfamiliar bedroom had a sense of familiarity to it. He'd spent years in this room. He remembered the day he purchased this bed. These pillows. Those blinds. That bedspread.
He was in his old bedroom; the one he used to share with his wife.
"Kendra?"
"Yeah?"
"What the hell is going on?"
She chuckled at that question as her hand gently rubbed his chest. "What do you mean
what the hell is going on?
What does it look like? We're waking up."
Patrick grabbed her hand and held it to get her to stop rubbing him. The soft motion was making his body react, whether he wanted it to or not.
"Why are we waking up in the same bed?" he asked, his tone serious.
"Oh, that's easy." She said with a devilish smirk. "Because we had sex, of course."
"Wait...WHAT???"
She giggled, as if his panicky questioning didn't bother her in the least. Her arms casually lifted over her head as she stretched her body. Her legs extended in the opposite direction.
Patrick couldn't help where his eyes wandered as she did this. Her braless breasts pushed against the thin material of her T shirt, highlighting her taut nipples which were practically erasers at this point. When she was done stretching, she sat up on her side, holding her head up with her hand while her elbow was perched on the mattress.
She looked like she was posing for a painting. Still beautiful, even after all these years. Even with her bed head of rumpled hair and her face naked of make-up, she was the most beautiful woman who'd ever let him remove her clothes.
An onrush of familiar feelings stirred inside of his loins. He mentally squashed them. He needed answers, and he had to not be horny to get them.
Once again implementing his serious tone, he asked, "So you're telling me that we had sex?"
"Yep."
"I don't believe it."
"Believe it." She said as she rolled away from him. That roll led her directly to the edge of the bed, in which she gracefully slid out from beneath the blanket. Patrick was now blessed with a full body view of his nearly naked wife. There she stood, wearing nothing but a thin T shirt and some panties.
To make matters worse, she had no shame about it. She didn't try to cover up. She didn't look embarrassed. In fact, she wore an amused grin, as if his confusion were entertaining.
"I warned you about drinking so much." She said as she perched her hands on her hips to playfully chastise him. "You really don't remember what we did last night? All the nasty shit I let your depraved ass do to me?"
"Huh?"
She giggled and shook her head before continuing with, "Now, I'm not complaining, but you were never that much of a freak when we were together."
"
Oh fuck!"
Patrick thought. "
She's not joking. I think I really fucked my wife last night."