Aether couldn't move. He had been pinned on the couch by a powerful, unyielding force: Lynette resting her head in his lap. Her sides rose and fell as she snoozed, letting out a purring sound.
This was bad. He really had to go potty. But Lynette was just so darn cute! What kind of monster would disturb her now of all times?
She nuzzled into his crotch, her hot breaths seeping onto his fly. One of her ears twitched.
Aether tried ignoring his bladder by focusing on his book. No good. He'd been holding it for an hour, and it really started hurting.
"Lynette," he whispered. She opened one eye lazily. "I really need to go."
She lifted her head, and he raced to the bathroom, slamming the door. He unzipped his fly and got in front of the toilet—ah, sweet relief.
Someone knocked.
"Occupied," he called.
Little fingers peeked under the door frame. The knob turned and Lynette entered. She strolled right up to him and rubbed her cheek against his, which threw off his aim a little. Then, she curled up around his legs and watched him potty.
"Do you have to do this every time?"
"Yes," she replied.
He washed his hands. Lynette followed him back to the couch. As soon as he sat down, she hopped up and laid her head in his lap. In seconds, she was snoring once again.
