Page 46 - Interior_SPRING SUMMER FALLING_2021

46 | FRANCESCA PE NN

drop. He looked like a sex god built for all things naughty. His perfectly crafted body
glowed in the light, each muscle I’d encountered was an imaginary slap in the face.

Since I am destined to be tortured at every waking moment by my decision to let
him live with me – wait, that’s not correct. I’ve had a lot of sex dreams lately – so;
every moment. It was no surprise to me that I’d be lucky enough to see him in this state
of undress on the very night he chooses to wear white boxer briefs.
I didn’t have to imagine anything; it was all laid out and road mapped for my
viewing pleasure. The sculpted, chiseled abs disappeared, only for a moment to allow

me to peruse the outline of his…uh…member properly. It was a sight to behold it was
long and thick and resting against his left leg. Little Henry…no, there was nothing
little about it, Henry Jr. should be worshipped. It needed its own monument and
museum, college students should have to write papers about it, and it should have its
own holiday. I almost left the kitchen to Google local sculptors because he needed his
own statue. David had nothing on him. I’d almost considered making a shrine to
honor it.
I was so mesmerized by his body that I’d walked into the light without
considering my own state of undress. He started to greet me, but the words stopped in
his throat. I saw him take in my long “Sleep Happens” tank top and my nautical
themed bikini underwear and smirk. Did my thighs look bad? They’d slimmed
considerably, and I thought they looked good. I prayed that the dark blue tank was

enough to hide my erect, braless nipples.
“What?” I challenged, hoping I didn’t sound self-conscious. He leaned against
the counter, completely unashamed of his practically naked appearance. His smile
showing his pretty teeth and melted what was left of my panties. His sleep roughened
voice almost made me moan.

“You remember about three weeks ago when we were in the hospital gift shop?”
My head bobbed affirmatively. “We were talking about your themed outfits. Well,
I’d thought about the nautical theme you’d worn that Monday and wondered if you
had the panties to match.” His smiled deepened. “Now, I know you do.” He pointed
at my underwear. “Those are striped. I’d imagined polka dots.”
I love and hate when he says things like that. I like knowing he’s imagined my
underwear, but I hate that it makes me feel warm and gooey – I’m serious. I had to
change my underwear that night – and my body usually becomes inhabited by