𝙈𝙧. 𝙅𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙨 | ✔

𝚏𝚒𝚔𝚊

The next morning seemed to occur as quickly as I blinked, I adjust myself and let out a big yawn before I stretched out, looking over to see Mr. Jones still knocked out as I giggled to myself, getting up and looking out the window, bright rays of sun bursting through the windows as the birds sang in unison. I shuffled over and opened the blinds, looking out at the stunning few of the sun peering over our small town. Feeling, whole. Finally. I rushed into the restroom, planning to be the first person ready as I turned on the fossit water, quickly brushing my teeth and washing my face. Leaving my hair in its normal bonnet, out of fear the shower would ruin all of my hard work.  

I stepped into the shower as the hot water clashed against my ebony skin, letting out a sigh of relaxation, grabbing a towel, and letting the suds off my favorite Strawberry-scented Olay body wash to cleanse my body head to toe. Gently hit my more personal areas, then scrub my skin with a sugar scrub, doing a quick shave just in case. I got out of the shower, wrapping myself in my towel, with my initials engraved on the bottom of it.

I wobbled back down to Mr. Jones's room, watching him flip and flop around his big bed as I giggled at him. My last-day outfit hung proudly in Mr. Jones's closet since we had made up. It had been planned since the beginning of the school year. I opened the big closet to the right of his room, pulling out my long baby blue summer dress that had been begging to be worn since I got it. It fit snugly around my upper half, loosening up every so slightly towards my knees. The dress hit a little above my ankle, perfect for my students. Unless they got cranky, then they'd tug on it, luckily for me, it was an 11:00 dismissal so it didn't matter. 

I put on my favorite white bra, a white thong, and black shorts so I wouldn't be flashing the world my underwear. I slide into the dress, closing the closet back, and sit down to start on my makeup. I grabbed the clear bag of makeup I left here for emergency and got to work. Starting with a full coverage base, to insure the pictures won't make me look like Flash Back Mary. The faint snores of Mr. Jones only made me smile. I couldn't help it, I loved him dearly and today was the day. I put on my favorite lashes and put on some light eyeliner to complete the look.

I laid out my comfortable platform slides with a strand of fluffy fabric covering the band. Quickly packing up my tote bag and hanging it on the back of the chair as I rushed out of Mr. Jones's bedroom and ran down the stairs and into the huge kitchen. As long as I had known Mr. Jones he would always cook, treating me and all of the other two-gorgeous women that lived in his house like Queens. I loved that about him, he took care of me no matter what. Today, I wanted to return the favor. 

As my big hunky giant lay sleeping away I quickly prepared a buffet-sized plate of French Toast. Since this was his farm, after all, he had a few tight connections. So not only did he get things faster but he'd get them at their best quality. Leaving him with the benefit of huge-thick slices of freshly made bread that soaked up French Toast mixture like no other. I was undoubtedly obsessed. I began to cup up a bunch of strawberries, sprinkling a few blueberries on the platter after washing off both of the fruits. I then went on to make the classics, wiping up five eggs and a bunch of bacon.