Amanda felt guilty she was using the 'shelter in place' order to end her relationship with Craig. For the last two months, they'd tried to move from friends to lovers, but failed. They'd been best friends for years, and she was thrilled when he confessed he'd had a crush on her. They were sure their friendship would carry them through any rough patches. It didn't. What didn't matter as friends did as housemates—the million day-to-day differences that now drove both of them crazy.
He observed the 'one cooks, the other does the dishes' rule. But he let plates, glasses, pots, and pans pile up in the sink for days before washing them.
In the middle of a movie they were watching, usually at a critical point in the story, she'd hit pause because she wanted a cup of tea and a snack. She could take half an hour. Meanwhile, he was chomping at the bit.
When she finished in the bathroom, it was clean and tidy. When he finished, there was water everywhere.
She insisted on putting red wine in the refrigerator, despite his many requests not to. Since he worked in the wine department of their local liquor store, it drove him up the wall.
The easy camaraderie of hanging out as friends had been replaced by a tense atmosphere defined by nit-picking, frustration, frequent arguments—and bland sex. After they watched the quarantine Governor announce the order on television, Craig simply said, "I think we both know it's better if I stay with my brother. I'll leave in the morning." She nodded and didn't argue. She felt terrible at how relieved she felt, but she was exhausted by their fighting. Hopefully, they could make it through just one more day without a blowout.
When their pizza arrived, she went to the refrigerator and got the wine—the chilled red wine. He looked at her and shook his head. "How many times do I have to explain this? You don't chill reds! It ruins the taste! If you have to be a barbarian and drink red cold, you could at least leave the bottle out and chill yours with ice cubes!"
She waved her hand dismissively and shot back. "Or you could warm yours in the microwave, you pretentious jerk!"
He gritted his teeth and glared at her across the table. "I've had it." He stood up so quickly his chair fell over. Grabbing her, he threw her over his shoulder.
"Hey! Put me down!"
As he strode into the bedroom, he pulled down her running shorts and spanked here repeatedly. Each slap sent an electric charge to her pussy. She groaned loudly.
Tossing her on the bed, he yanked off her t-shirt. In a flash, he was naked as well—his thick, veined dick fully erect. Pulling the belt from his robe hanging on the bedpost, he tied it around her wrists and knotted it to the headboard.
