6:35 AM Tuesday
Peggy sat straight up in her bed gasping for air. Her sheets were damp and crumpled and her hair was matted and sticky from a night of sweating. She took deep and measured breaths and started counting down from 25 in an effort to better control her racing heart. She placed her hands under her legs to stop them from shaking and began trying to will herself into relaxing.
"25... 24... There is no boogeyman under my bed. 23... 22. There is no boogeyman under my bed," she told herself as she opened her eyes to the familiar sight of her quiet bedroom.
It had been another restless night and the morning, once again, came earlier than she had hoped. Her husband had just started the shower in their bathroom and she could tell from the beating water against the tile that he had not yet entered and was waiting for the water to get warmer. She was relieved that he was not around to see how she had awakened.
She lifted off her covers and wiggled her toes just to make certain her legs weren't scratched and bruised from the running and flailing that her bed bore witness to. She massaged her legs and watched the rays of the sun slyly creep from her window and across the floor to overtake her bed. She really was safe and no longer fleeing from whatever stalked her in the dark spaces of her sleeping mind. She wiggled her toes once more in the sunlight to be certain of their uninjured status.
"2... 1. There is no one under my bed!" she emphatically ended her count and fluffed and flipped her pillow in hopes the other side was not as damp with sweat. She then laid her head back down wanting a bit more rest before starting the day.
"Ugh, this has got to stop. Is this the only way I can sleep?"
She reached over and opened the drawer to her nightstand and clumsily fumbled her hand through the contents until she felt the hard plastic covering of an eyeglass case. She rubbed her eyes and turned her head towards her clock to see the time.
"6:46," she groaned, "I've gotta stop doing this. Can't I just get some rest?"
Her hand rested on the case and she thought for a moment about getting out of bed and doing something productive like getting the morning paper or maybe fixing her husband breakfast. She could even go into their bathroom and surprise him by joining him in the shower. Her fingers nervously tapped on the case. He would be at least 30 more minutes in the bathroom to start his day and she could do anything, really, anything at all. Anything else, for sure, if restful sleep would simply take her.
"Close the drawer. You're much more strong willed than this! Close the drawer, Peggy, please!"
She ignored her last plea to herself, opened the case and pulled out the small vibrator that, for years, she had hidden and had no use for. She turned it on to the lowest of its three speeds and took a moment to admire how it felt as if she were holding a whole nest of vibrating bees in her palm. She spread open her legs and placed the vibrator right below her navel and slowly moved down over the ridge of her mound and, finally, onto her clit.
He was here now, the stranger, crawling from underneath her bed and standing before her naked and glowing as the sun's rays filtered through her yellow curtains and striped his blackness with its hue. Head bowed, he dared not make eye contact, as he went down on both knees at the foot of her bed in reverence. He knelt in silence as he waited for a signal of approval to begin tending to the needs of the queen.
She tapped the crown of his head and laid back on her bed in tingling anticipation. He extended his proboscis and licked the crease of her knee and she spread her legs open granting him entrance into her royal comb. He slowly made his way, as etiquette and tradition dictated, pausing to leave gentle stings along the ivory walls of her inner thighs until his work reached the crown jewel of her hive. She arched her abdomen and sensed his whole head buzz with excitement at the smell of her now dripping honeypot. Circling her clit with a rhythmic and calculated waggle of his tongue, he then began to busily mine the inner petals of her body for sweet nectar.
Peggy turned up her vibrator on high and then tightly clasped her legs together causing the vibrator to now sound like a mower stalling in wet grass as she orgasmed. She then wiped it clean, placed it back in the case and into the drawer, and laid her head back down to welcome a brief relief from her impulses and, hopefully, a little more sleep.
8:46 AM
Peggy's husband opened his pill organizer and chased down his morning dosage of heart medication with some water. He sat down at the kitchen table and began reading the morning newspaper as he ate breakfast. It had been over a month now since the black stranger was in their home and he had noticed the changes in his wife. She wasn't sleeping comfortably, she drifted in thought, and she...
"Good morning! I, um, didn't expect you up so soon," he said, genuinely taken aback by her entrance into the kitchen. "There's coffee made if you're wanting some."
Peggy walked over and kissed her husband on the cheek, "Thank you."
Her was robe was loosely tied around her waist and she smelled faintly of lavender and sweat and as she bent down to kiss him, her left breast escaped the confines of her robe and exposed her nipple. He took advantage of the opportunity and rubbed his arm into it and felt it harden from his stimulation.
"You are more than welcome," he said.
Her body shuddered at his touch and she quickly covered herself, turned to the cupboard to get her coffee mug and awkwardly replied, "No, I didn't wake up to make you breakfast."
"Make me breakfast?" he asked confused, "Wake up? Hon, I wasn't expecting..."
He stopped from finishing his sentence. He had flustered her with his touch and it was happening more frequently. He knew what was the source of it all, and she did too, but she always deflected from addressing it. He felt now was the right time to try and tighten her screws. He leaned back in his chair, folded his arms and quietly stated, "I've still not heard anything from him."
Glasses clanked as she momentarily lost her grip on her mug and without facing her husband, blurted out, "I don't really care!"
She closed the cupboard, tightened her robe and, composing herself, said flatly, "I didn't mean to yell, ok? It's just I've not given much thought to anything like that. It's not on my mind at all. I'm going to go shower now."
Her husband stood up from the table and as she walked out of view he called out, "Wait, does this mean you're not gonna make me the breakfast I've already made?"
6:31 AM Wednesday
Peggy awoke hearing her husband start the shower in their bathroom. Her hair felt sticky and matted and her sheets were damp. She had had another restless night and the morning had come earlier than she had hoped. Her nights were now a constant negative feedback loop of her dreaming, tossing and turning, and then melting down as if she were Chernobyl. She fluffed and flipped her pillow to the other side and laid her head back down to enjoy it's fleeting coolness.
"Can't I have one night? Just one?"
She reached over and opened the drawer to her nightstand and clumsily fumbled her hand through until she felt plastic. She rubbed her eyes and turned her head towards her clock to see the time.
"6:33," she groaned.
Her hand rested on the case and she thought a moment about getting up and starting laundry. Maybe watering the plants or changing out the blown light bulb in the pantry. All would be momentary distractions from that night a month before. The poorly chosen words that first came out her mouth kept echoing in her head, "You're Black! You're Black! You're Black! You Are Black!"
