Heather drifted slowly on the bed, mellow to her very bones. Beside her and just as mellow if not more, Cam was saying something. She liked his voice. Had always liked his calm, laid back masculinity. Made her shivvery in the gut. Made her want to lie back beneath and open her legs wide, just welcome him into her warm and sexy little body and make babies with his manly voice and whip-thin muscled frame. She'd like to fuck him now, she thought.
She thought about it, lying there. She felt warm and sensual and ready. She wondered why they weren't already having sex. She'd like to. But she was wearing clothing. That seemed complicated. Her head flopped over facing Cam. He was wearing clothing too. She thought about removing it. Or maybe she should take off her clothes first? It seemed a lot of work.
"You know," she said, "people just shouldn't wear any clothes."
Cam wasn't talking. He was listening. She knew that he must understand. "You know?" she said. She raised her hand and looked at it. "It's not like clothing matters anyway." Her hand wasn't wearing clothing. Were gloves clothing? But you could fuck with gloves on. But who would want to? Her knuckles had really interesting shapes.
Cam's voice was so relaxing. She wondered what he was saying to her. She could feel the world revolving under her. She knew that she was lying still, but she was moving. The whole world was moving, turning around its axis as it flew through space. She held on tightly to the bed with both hands, thinking that maybe that third edible had been a mistake. She was certain that the fourth one had been, and the fifth as well. She contemplated numbers.
He put a glass of water in her hands. She knew that was important, so she raised herself up sitting and she drank, a little at a time. Her legs dangled off her bed, in their apartment. Together now, today, all done and moved in together.
"I liked our party," Heather said, leaning herself against her man, who'd sat beside her once again.
He held her and he kissed her gently on the forehead. She was all warm and comfortable, his manly smell was all around her. Her nipples were sensitive and needy, rubbing braless up inside her shirt. She turned her head and whispered that she'd like to fuck.
"You know I'd like to also," Cam replied, "but not until you're a lot less high than you are right now."
"Aww, Cam," she whined, "but sex is good for us. It's full of vitamins and oxytocin." She was so relaxed and tingly all along where she and him were touching.
"Hey, that's progress, Heather." He was smiling with his voice. "You actually responded to something I said this time."
She frowned and contemplated that. "I think I had too many edibles."
"I think so too." His voice was gentle, and his arm was firm. She could live in arms like that forever. She was planning to.
But she needed to be fucked. She didn't want to wait. A plan came to her then. "Can you turn off the lights?"
"Do you think that will help?" He seemed reluctant, frowning.
"Remember my period? Let's try dark."
As he got up, something struck her. "Wait!" she moaned and grabbed at Cam, "Clothing!"
He sat back down, and she sagged bonelessly against him once again. Gratefully, she inhaled his wonderful sexy male smell. So good and calming. Warm. Her hand was on his thigh. His cock was near. She felt its tension through his pants.
"Heather," he said, a little testily. That wasn't fair. He wanted to fuck her too, she knew. She felt that he was hard for her. "Heather!"
She fell away, saying "You don't have to yell at me, I said." The bed was welcoming her lying down again.
"You're still not sober, Heather." His voice was gentle, firm again.
She knew she needed to sober up. Consenting, consensual, sensual, sexual. It was all connected. But she still needed help, and so she asked, "Why hasn't it gotten dark yet?"
"You wanted to save your clothing from getting ripped." She hoped he wasn't laughing at her. It sounded like he wanted to. But then, why shouldn't he? This was really silly. She had to laugh as well.
Heather focused on her t-shirt. She could take that off. She got her arms up. Her nice hard nipples snagged against the bottom hem as she pulled it off. She wanted her man to touch her though. She had a cunning plan.
"Cam, you gotta take my pants off." She snickered, because her plan was great. "Yeah, I'm too stoned to take my pants off. You gotta get me out of my pants." She smiled at him. "You want to anyway."
"Well, yeah," he said, and smiled that loving smile at her. Much more chastely than she wanted, he undid her jeans and slid them down off her narrow hips.