It's 4:33 am and I'm wide awake.

On short stories of intimacy.

It’s 4:33 am and to nobody’s surprise, I am wide awake. I lay there for a bit squeezing my eyes shut, unsuccessfully willing myself back to sleep. Eventually, I accepted that I was up for the morning and wanted to leave my bed, but he was sound asleep next to me.

I try to wiggle out unnoticed but our legs are intertwined and his arm is resting on mine as we both lay on our backs. He stirs awake and sleepily asks if I’m okay. I say “Yes, I can’t sleep. I’m going to go smoke, go back to sleep.”

I go out and light a joint, hoping it invites sleep in. When I’m finished I return to bed, sleep still eluding me. I decide that I’m just going to go out on the couch and read my book until it’s time to get ready for work. It’s an office day, great.

I get ready to make my exit once more and he says “Where are you going now?” I reply that I’m going to go out on the couch to read so as to not disturb him with my book light. He assures me that the light won’t be a bother and that he’d rather I stay in bed with him. How could I deny such a sweet request?

Ten minutes into my book, I’m high, relaxed, and I feel a throb between my legs. His hands are resting on my naked thighs, inches away from my love and I wonder if I can telepathically tell him to make his way there. As if the stars aligned and he heard me, he turned around while reaching further under the covers, looked at me, and said “Keep reading.”

He knows just where and how to touch me and I’m lost in the pleasure. I could no longer read the words on the page so I dropped the book and the lamp off the side of the bed and leaned my head back in ecstasy.

“That’s my good girl,” he says.