What had started out as shower sex, turned into a bit of a sex marathon, really. I hadn’t really intended it to, but Kyle wasn’t exactly going to refuse, and I still wanted to push my own limits to get more comfortable with it all. Just as I’d predicted, Kyle enjoyed the fact that I was giving him more than one round of sex, and to top it all off, I brought the cake out while we were having a break. Sex and cake is hardly a bad way to spend an anniversary, really.
Eventually, we made it back to the bed, exhausted and in no real shape to do much more than snuggle up to each other in a sweaty, sticky ball of bliss.
“Thank you,” Kyle said, kissing me. I returned it, but I was too busy still catching my breath back to really reply so I nuzzled him instead. To the tune of my contented hum, he played with my hair and I curled up against him. He seemed happy to just stay snuggled up. I was very nearly asleep, so I was hardly about to complain. "I got something for you too, gorgeous, but it can wait til tomorrow," he told me, kissing my cheek – he looked just as sleepy as I felt. Needless to say, I was out like a light.
The next morning, I woke up feeling like I never wanted to move again. I was all cuddled up in my husband’s arms and warm and happy. His lips brushed against my neck, kissing my skin a few more times when I tilted my head, cuddling my hips. Giggling a little, I wriggled down so he was cuddling my waist instead. Just because I was getting better at actually having sex, doesn’t mean I’ve gotten any better at the stuff that surrounded sex. Like hip cuddle.
“No hip cuddles?”
“Not today, mister,” I said, booping him on the nose. He gave me a pretendy upset face, so I kissed him with the big eyes on, “sowwy.”
“It’s okay, silly,” he told me with a smile.
I rolled over in his arms so I was facing him, “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
"I'm gonna go to the shop and get some smokes. Want anything?" I asked.
He shook his head, "no thanks, gorgeous.”
“’Kay,” I mumbled, not really wanting to move, but y’know, when the craving for nicotine hits, it’s gotta be answered. I peeled myself away from him reluctantly and got vaguely dressed. Vaguely meaning that I was wearing a pair of jeans and a shirt. C’mon, I was only going to the shop up the road.
Anyway, there I was, wandering around the shop barefoot and earning a few weird looks because of the sex hair and bare feet, minding my own business. I get distracted easily. I came up here for smokes and now I have a cart full of food we don’t really need and – and I could’ve sworn that was my dad.
I stood where I was in the middle of the freezer aisle, stuck to the spot. Frozen there, if you’ll excuse a pun. I stared til he was out of sight and someone walked into me without an apology.
I abandoned my cart where it was, racing back home as fast as I could. I’m pretty sure I got bits of glass in my feet because I wasn’t paying attention to where I was putting them. I caught a glimpse of Kyle frowning as I vaulted over the side of the sofa, hiding in the little gap between it and the wall.
“What’s wrong?” Kyle asked, sitting down with me.
“I saw my dad in the shop,” I whispered, looking up at him, scared.
"I'm sure it wasn't him, gorgeous."
“It was him,” I insisted, unable to hold back the frightened tears, “he’s found me.”
"He hasn't, gorgeous. He doesn't even know where we live."
“What if he has?” I asked, blinking through my tears.
“He hasn’t.” I trusted him, but I was still fucking scared. I scrambled into his lap, pulling myself close to him and clinging like there was no tomorrow.