Day Fourteen: Sex
When I arrived home Thursday night I was too tired to do anything but collapse into bed. But today is another matter. Seth's taken the day off and there's sex. A lot of it.
Lying in bed, blissfully lethargic, with Seth's bare skin pressed close against mine, I'd be ready to swear it was Saturday not Friday. I woke up this morning to the scent of bacon wafting in from the kitchen. And homefries. There were homefries too. Being a gentleman, Seth likes to make sure I'm well fed before any sort of strenuous physical activity. I'm twenty-four years old and Seth will be turning thirty-two tomorrow and yet here we are on a Friday afternoon, carrying on like horny teenagers.
Yawning, I stretch and let my eyes rove around my unusually messy bedroom. My suitcase is lying open in one corner, half unpacked. Next to it are several boxes of books from Seth's apartment. We're still waiting for the varnish to dry. Over to one side, Seth's new dresser is piled with the clothes he brought over yesterday but didn't have time to put away: shirts, socks, boxers, all neatly folded. There's still something strange about having a man's boxers piled up in my room– like foreign objects that've washed up on shore.
Next to me, Seth stirs. A gushy sort of happiness bubbles through me as a deep, contented groan pours out of his chest. He smiles. I lean over to look into his face. Our eyes meet and for a long moment we just stare at each other– until we break out grinning like a pair of cats who've not only eaten the canary, but who've gone on to beget a litter of kittens while they were at it.
"So, what shall we do this evening?" he asks, brushing a lock of hair out of my face. "Would you like to go out?"
I roll my eyes. "I've had enough going out. I want to stay home tonight."
"We could watch a movie."
"That's more like it." I lie back and lean my head against his chest so that I can hear the steady thump of his heartbeat. I close my eyes, and let it lull me into a doze.