Eggs and Cream

I stirred to the familiar sounds of creaking wood floors under her approaching footsteps. We loved the idiosyncrasies of this old house, and had poured our souls into restoring it to be the place we hoped to grow old together in.

Judging from the direction sunlight creeping through the blinds, I assumed it was close to midmorning.

“How did I sleep this late, and so soundly?” I pondered.

I was often restless when she was on a date, especially an overnighter. Maybe last night’s sleep was a sign that the honesty and trust we shared was more sound than ever.

Despite that, my arm involuntarily reached across to confirm her side of our bed was undisturbed. Not that there should be any doubt. She’d planned to spend last night with her new bull. They’d had a couple of play dates before this, and with the way she'd spoken so glowingly afterwards, an overnighter seemed likely. It was how she liked to play, an expression of admiration for his gifts.

The floorboard noises stopped at our door, and I glanced up to see the paneled door ease open and her head pop in.

“Awake?” she asked with an inquisitive look.

“Just now,” I responded, rubbing the bridge of my nose. “What time is it?”

“Around nine,” she replied, then walked in towards our hamper near the bathroom. Her tousled hair, normally in a neat ponytail, tumbled across her elegant shoulders and down towards her full breasts. Her outfit was nearly identical...