I primly resisted his advances for ages. Minutes. SEVERAL minutes. "I'm not going to have sex with you," I pointed out when he was suggesting he come over, late on Monday night.
"I don't mind - I just haven't seen you for ages! I wanna hang out."
"I'm going to bed shortly."
"I don't mind going to bed. I like bed."
"Ha. I know. Alright, see you when you get here."
"I'm right outside."
That would be far creepier if I hadn't known he was walking me-wards as he was texting.
Anyway, I pulled out spare futons and piled them comfortably, gave him lots of bedding all of his very own. Cos I certainly had no plans for any rumpy pumpy.
He brought a blast of cold winter night air in with him. I turned my glowing orange electric heater on and he crouched in front of it for a moment. "Is it alright if I sleep in the nude?" he asked, standing and yanking his clothes off.
"God, you're a trier!"
"You can sleep in the nude too. I won't be offended."
"I'm sure you won't," I said, but politely declined. I'm a GOOD girl. And he was kind enough to keep his undies on.
He commented that his feet were always warm - were mine? No, I said; my hands are usually hot and my feet switch between boiling and glacial. And OF COURSE he lazily moved his leg in under my duvets to feel how chilly my feet were. And OF COURSE his were roasty warm and curious.
And of course, then it all began.
1 comments:
I hope this sort of thing happens when I come visit you. Only I have cold feet. :( I mean literally, not figuratively.
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