I was a little stoned as I shed my clothes and slid between the sheets. Laying back, I snuggled into my pillow, trying to shrug off the chill of autumn. My nipples brushed against the flannel sheet, and I found myself tracing my fingers in the same fashion. A chill ran down my spine, and I reached for my book. No use, he would be in as soon as coffee was ready for the morning. I smiled to myself, at the simple predictable things that made me happy. I never have to make coffee again since I taught him to do it.
I read my book for about 10 minutes, enough time to get drowsy. When he came to bed, I simply set my book down, turned out my light, and happily snuggled into his embrace. It feels nice to be held once in a while.
I felt his finger trace down my side. Could that just be a twitch? Lips brushed my neck, and I filled with longing. He was taking his sweet time, and the suspense was painfully sweet.
The rest of the details don't need to be written, but suffice to say i wont soon forget that night.
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