Press Release

13: Catch and Release

When I wake up, I am briefly disoriented. Lying on my stomach, I feel that usual indicator that I'm awake: morning wood. Thinking I'll roll over and take care of it myself, I realize that I'm not in my own bed. The sheets here are as soft as mine, but the pillows are slightly different. There's a tiny sliver of light pouring in where the curtains aren't fully drawn together, and I am more awake now as the events of the previous night enter my consciousness. Although technically, that amazing fuck happened a few hours earlier this morning. Glancing at the bedside clock, I see that it's nearly noon, and I cannot believe I've slept this late. I must have gotten more comfortable than I've ever been at a woman's place or I must have been really exhausted. Because I never sleep late at someone else's. Groaning, I wonder what the rest of the day has in store for me.

Lifting my head, I look around for Olivia, but she's nowhere to be seen. Pricking up my ears I listen for the shower, but I don't hear water running. Silently, I get out of bed, stark naked, ready to do a search and rescue for my clothes, but they are folded neatly on the chair by the fireplace, my shoes neatly laid out on the floor. I debate whether a shower is called for, but decide to slide my jeans on and see if I can find the lady of the house first. It would be rude to shower without permission. Besides, maybe she wants to help with my morning issue? That's my hope anyway.

I hear the elevator ding when I have one leg in my pants, and it takes me another minute to tuck my erection painfully to the left. Good thing I'm wearing my jeans because they are tight enough to keep my dick in one place. The side effect, of course, is that my current condition will be visible to anyone and everyone which is unfortunate. Still, I don't want Olivia to leave without saying goodbye. Don't ask me why it matters because at the moment I have no reason.

Racing across the room and into the hall, I hop, trying to adjust myself in these pants when I'm in no shape to be attempting to zip up. I pull up short when I spot Olivia in her pink silk dressing gown, a little cleavage peeking through where the material crosses over her bare breasts. She's holding a rather large bag, and the smell wafting from it is divine. Her mouth forms an O when she spots me, and I see that she's still not wearing any makeup, yet she is more beautiful every time I see her.

Curiously, she looks at me, and I stall, unsure what to say. What I really want to say is, "Let's get back into bed," but she's got that look on her face. The one that says "back off," so I merely smile at her and lazily ask if I may use her shower. With a glance at my jeans (and absolutely zero mystery about what she sees), Olivia brings her eyes back to mine, nodding wordlessly.

There's so much unsaid, and I don't know how to say any of it. So I merely back away, my shirtless torso feeling chilly and lonely in the February air. In her bathroom, I find that she's laid out an extra towel -- the super soft and fluffy kind -- along with some sample-sized bottles of shampoo and body wash. Once again, I have to wonder how often she's had others here for overnight visits. My stomach clenches at the thought, and I convince myself that I'm hungry because whatever was in that bag smelled like heaven. Showering quickly, I take care of my, uh, issue with expediency. And who cares if it's the image of Olivia's hands on my shaft that helps me?

Getting dressed, I try to think of what I'll say when I pass her on my way to the elevator. I can hear a drone of voices on the telly, but I have no idea what she's watching. As I exit the bedroom, clean and fully dressed (with my dick appropriately tucked away), she pauses the television. She's sitting on the couch with a giant platter of Belgian Waffles on the table in front of her. There's a bowl of fresh fruit and a second bowl of whipped cream. Her dressing gown reveals a slice of her bare leg underneath, and I shiver slightly, knowing exactly what her milky thighs feel like wrapped around my waist.

She looks up at me curiously, and I can tell that her "back the fuck off" sign is fully in place, so I simply smile (allowing my dimple to show -- it works wonders) and say, "Thank you for a lovely time. Sorry I overslept." Smiling tightly, Olivia tilts her head at me before responding, "I enjoyed our encounter. I'm sure I'll see you again at the next press event."