I did manage some sleep that night. I think I had drained myself so mentally and physically that there was nothing left to do but sleep. I couldn't think any more, I couldn't move any more. My last waking thoughts that night were of how awkward the morning would be. Would he feel ashamed? Would he feel regret?
No...he felt horny. Maybe the rest was yet to come but the morning started where the night left off. Great raw sex.
It was an early morning, places to go and things to do. Reality was waiting for us just outside that hotel room door. It reminded me of a movie I once saw. A young couple spent the night on a bench I believe. They talked all night long and were totally caught up in each other. I don't remember the details but in the end, they had to step off the bench and life was to return as it was before their night began. I watched that movie and was left wishing for a night to be so engaging, the moments shared to be so memorable, so intense that I feared taking that step down and walking away. This was that moment, this was my bench.
I wore the look of a great night of sex well, traipsing about the room gathering pieces of clothing that had been strewn about. I don't even remember any of it coming off save for the Canadian's jersey he not-so-jokingly insisted had to come off before he could be with me. My hair was a mess, I wore the smell of sex like the most expensive bottle of perfume. I had no shame in front of him. Feeling so free, so uninhibited around him put a smile on my face as I hedged for the shower. Moments later he joined me.
Another rule to be broken, I shall not shower with no one! Not my husband, not my loves of my life and here, now, with him I stood in the shower. As the water beat upon us I just looked at him and smiled. Hello again, me. Where have you been?
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