.
Tommy got up and scuffed to the bathroom. He did not bother to close the door. There would be nobody to lesson him. There was nobody. His house was empty since Helen had died. Since he had decided to stop screwing around. Since he had started to try to impress Barbara.
The previous evening must have left a bad impression.
Holding his head he went to the kitchen and got himself a coffee and a painkiller. They had boozed like hell. He believed they had drained the pub. He could not even remember how he got home. He only remembered a sweet dream of Barbara giving him a juicy goodnight kiss in his lounge before she laid down on his sofa and immediately slept. He shook his head lightly and crept there.
In the doorway he stopped dead. There she was. One bare leg out of the blanket, carelessly draped just over her hips. Her shirt was rucked up and presented her belly. On the armchair she had piled her socks, her jeans and - her bra!
Tommy swallowed. He came to the opinion that it probably was no dream.
Barbara started shifting uncomfortably and moaned. With still closed eyes she winced. One hand went to her forehead and she groaned again. She wiped her face and grunted.
Tommy just watched her moving hip. His headache was gone in an instant seeing her hand unconsciously stroking her belly. When she bent her knee up and leaned it against the backrest she looked so inviting. The little sounds she made, her stirring body - his mind finally was deep in the gutter.
Pushing his luck he sneaked over. One hand gently on her belly he lowered his lips on hers, expecting her to push him away.
She did not. Quite the opposite.
.