Early Morning Things
16
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I wake up to the gentle glow of morning light seeping through the curtains, stirring me from slumber. Shifting on the bed, I inhale the addictive scent on the sheets—his stuff smells so good. I hesitate as the events of last night automatically plays in my mind like a vivid reel. My heart plummets as realization dawns on me—there’s a strong discrepancy between my expectations and reality.
Beside me, Special sleeps peacefully, his features relaxed in slumber. And while I’m grateful for the comfort of his presence, why am I waking up on one side of the bed, while he’s on the other side? This was not what I’d expected.
Pressing two fingers to my forehead, I close my eyes. How is it we talked for most of the night; laughed harder than we’ve done in years. We… we ate pizza, drank red wine, chatted some more, till he made a joke about me falling asleep while standing .
He took me to his bedroom, tucked me into bed, and promised to join me shortly. I struggled not to fall asleep, but I must have been tired from all the excitement. Then we shared a bed and were close. Very close.
I adjust my legs beneath the blanket, my heart beating faster as I consider the implications of this realization—am I really ready to get intimate with him? No. No, I don’t think so. Was I expecting him to make a move?
I take a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering sense of confusion. Intricacies of desires I’ve never fully confronted swirl around me. The morning light bathes the room in gentle warmth as I gaze at his sleeping form with my hands pressed against my chest, scared that touching him might shatter the fragile reality of this dream.
I thought seeing you in person after all this time would make me feel less for you, but I guess absence does make the heart grow fonder. Meeting you now as a woman in her prime has ignited an insatiable yearning and burning desire for a depth of intimacy that’s more profound. It is consuming me alive with a fervor akin to a blazing inferno.
I take one last look at him before quietly slipping out of bed, careful not to disturb him. The soft glow of the rising sun bathes everything in a delicate hue, casting a warm aura over the space.
I stretch my arms above my head feeling the satisfying pull in my muscles and catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror above his dresser. With a soft smile, I hug myself clad in a sleek black two-piece underwear set.
A glance at his sleeping form through the mirror has me wondering about last night again. Was he stunned seeing me dressed in this? Did he find pleasure in assisting a slightly tipsy version of me in preparing for bed? What emotions crossed his mind when I confessed to having packed no nightwear? My curiosity lingers briefly before I return my attention to the mirror.
I glide my hand across the smooth fabric, tracing the curves and edges with a quiet admiration, appreciating the woman staring back at me. The lace details, intricately woven, contribute to making me feel sensual and desirable. Perhaps his gentleness last night was just that—gentleness. I’m glad I took Itohan’s encouragement to shop for sexy underwear and clothes appropriate for this visit .
Oh shit. Not the clogging at the back of my—instinctively, I press my tongue against the back of my throat for relief.
“Are you okay?” The soft rustle of the bed sheets reaches my ears, prompting me to turn, a hand to my throat.
“Yeah.” I swallow the hard lump in my throat, still using my tongue to itch my throat in between my speech. “I’m fine. This happens every morning.”
“Allergies?” His sleepy voice is endearing.
I shrug, finally clearing my throat and feeling so much better. “I guess.”
“Hmm.” His mouth curves into a smile as he takes in my form.
“What a sight to behold,” he teases, his white vest is peaking from beneath the blanket as he gently adjusts himself until his back rests on the headboard. “Good morning baby.”
“Morning,” I reply softly, smiling widely as my chest expands with joy, love, pride… and gosh. I instinctively cross one arm over my bare abdomen, holding on to my elbow. In an instant, it dawns on me that this is my first time standing before a man in my underwear. I’m lucky it’s not just any man, but my man . Oddly, this same man made no move, not even a kiss, last night to express his interest in me intimately.
His smile doesn’t waver as he takes in my contemplative expression. “Is something on your mind?”
Taking a deep breath, I feel my heart rate quicken slightly as I gather courage. Honesty is key, and to let this out, I must embrace vulnerability. I lick my lips before speaking. “Last night... I guess I was expecting something—something different?”
His brow furrows in confusion, his eyes searching mine for understanding. “Different how?”
Stepping closer until I’m standing by my side of the bed, I pause for a moment, choosing my words carefully. “I thought... I thought that us being close like that would lead to... well, something more intimate. I mean, we haven’t seen each other in a while. Then we shared a bed. And I guess I was wondering why...”
“Oh.” His confusion clears, replaced by an understanding look which I find to be reassuring. He gestures for me to get on the bed, which I do. Then he signals for me to come closer. I roll my eyes, exhale dramatically, and move until I’m within his reach.
Reaching out, he smiles, gently brushing his fingers against my cheek. “Fifi baby… I want you to know that our chemistry is never in question. It’s never that.”
I meet his gaze, my heart rate steadying as his words sink in. “Then what is it about? We haven’t seen each other in years. It was our first time alone together. I thought you would want to—you know…” I let my words hang in the air with a shrug.
A thoughtful look crosses his features as he searches for the right words. “I didn’t want to assume or push boundaries. It’s about timing, about respect, about understanding that our relationship is more than mere physical attraction—”
“Tsk. I appreciate your respect, but I didn’t want you to hold back because of that.”
“Really Fifi.” He chuckles, wrapping his arms around my waist. His warmth seeps into my skin, sending messages to my eager hormones. “You yourself have a mantra that the strength of a relationship—”
“—is not defined by physical intimacy.”
“You said it.”
“That was me.” I shrug, whining like a petulant child. “This is me, and—” I chuckle with joy as something warm keeps hardening on my thighs.
“What? What is it? I didn’t want to rush things, but if you’re comfortable, we can take things at a pace that—”
I brush my thigh against his growing erection.
With a knowing look, his smile deepens. Then he starts chuckling, squeezing me tighter. “You witch.”
“Hey!” I laugh, leaning further into him, hoping for a kiss, for a turn of events, for his hands to ravenously tear my underwear and take me to heaven’s gate.
“You’re doing too much,” he says with a laugh, extracting his hands from my sides.
“Oh… What is it? ”
He shifts slightly on the bed, his gaze never leaving mine. “You decided to surprise me, so now I’ve got plans.”
I groan in frustration. “Really?”
He nods, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Well, it’s Saturday, and I was thinking we could explore the city a bit. Maybe visit that museum you mentioned before.”
“You’re talking about the British Museum now? Spesh?” Warmth builds inside me as I calculate one and two. I think I know what he’s trying to do. Bring it on! Using the most flowery and patronizing British accent I can mimic, I say, “That sounds lovely. I’d love to see more of the city.”
He nods, his fingers gently tracing patterns on my skin. “Great. We can grab breakfast then head out.”
Okay… I chuckle softly. “Breakfast sounds amazing. Do you cook, or are we venturing out for that?”
His laughter mingles with mine as realization dawns on him that I’m going to be very cooperative so I can get back at him later. “I can whip up something simple, or we can venture out . Your call.”
I lean in a bit closer. “How about a compromise? We cook together?”
“You’re on. Let’s make a mess in the kitchen.”
“A mess?”
“I’ve been waiting for your arrival to do some serious havoc in that space,” he says, getting up from bed and walking to his modest-sized chest, looking hot in checkered-patterned boxers and white vest.
“Oh…” I mutter, smiling at the way he pulls at the boxer fabric stuck between his ass.
“Stop staring,” he teases, turning his head to face me.
I chuckle, throwing a hand up. “What?”
“And put this on.” He tosses a navy-blue top at me, “before you start something you can’t finish.”
The clothing lands on my lap. “Oh…” I lift it up to find it’s a hooded sweatshirt. Excited, I wear it. “I’m not cutting onions o, before you say I’m crying for something else. ”
His laughter fills the room. “No worries. We’ll take it easy on the onions then. How about we make something simple? Toast bread?”
“Naija style?”
“Yes.”
“Ah…” I sigh, salivating at the imaginary crunchiness. “With coffee and fruit?”
He pulls on a pair of navy-blue joggers, fastening the ropes around his waist as he muses. “I’ve got Nescafé. As for fruits, I think I’ve got carrots… tangerine…”
Nescafé, I can manage, but... “Carrot and toast?” I ask, adjusting until I’m sitting on the bed’s edge. “No strawberry?”
“You expect me to keep strawberries? Those things are too sensitive. They spoil so fast. If I’d known you were visiting, I would have stocked up on fruits.”
“Tsk. Excuses. I’m not cooking again.”
“There should be some sort of fruit in the kitchen.” He walks back to the bed, pulling my arm. “Come jor, let’s go check what’s in the kitchen before you start making demands.”
Chuckling, I let him pull me towards the kitchen.