IMPENDING

IMPENDING

When he showed zero interest in joining me for a bath, I was quite frankly, disappointed. And maybe a little bit relieved. I needed time to get my priorities in order, tell myself what was more important, the sex and the impending orgasms. Priscilla should be the least of my worries.

So when I emerge from the bathroom, I’m surprised to see that he laid out one of his grey T-shirts and shorts for me.

That only meant one thing. He expected me to spend the night.

I do not try to erase the grin that may or may not look deranged.

“The shorts don’t fit.” I tell him as a appear at the doorway to the kitchen.

He paused what he was doing, making me a sandwich because I was craving one, to stare at me.

With my wet hair wrapped in one of his fluffy white towels, and dressed in his shirt that stopped just above my thighs and was three sizes too large for my small frame.

I pull on the waist line of his shorts, there was space enough for two of me.

“And it kee