Bad Habits

35

I smell the pancakes before my other senses can register their presence. The homey smell of frying butter reaches my nostrils assaulting my brain with mouthwatering images of fluffy, warm goodness. I quickly climb out of the warm Egyptian sheet running downstairs and walking into the kitchen to see her frying the round fluff of excellence and humming a beautiful tune completely unaware of my presence.

I sneak up behind her snagging a soft piece of heaven off of the platter that is stacked with golden pancakes topped with blueberries. I grab a plate and retreat toward the table with my prize. After slathering the still steaming treat with liquid sugar, I gingerly cut off a bite lifting it into my already watering mouth.

Pure bliss.

With a smile on my face I look up toward my mother, her hair is a beautiful shining blonde reminding me of the sun. My mother is a brunette. I know this lady but she isn't my mother.

My heart is pounding inside of my throat as soon as my eyes shoot open. I replay the odd dream inside of my mind over and over wishing to see her face. I can't get over the feeling I am having. It's the same feeling from the last thought I had once remembered not too long ago of my father and a woman. Was it the same person? It has to be. Is this all even real?

I remember the dream as much as I can. Inside of the dream I'm inside of the body of a younger version of myself with the same thoughts in the past except I also have the thoughts of my present self.

"What is going on?" I whisper to no one.

I finally begin to look around the room realizing it's not mine when I notice the white and grey colors of the bright and small room. I quickly sit up feeling the soft cotton underneath my palms. I look down noticing the dark blue material draped over my naked body. Last nights events slowly creep back into mind.

I remember my hand running down the hair on his chest and toward his hot and hard member. I easily recall the loud grunting as I created ecstasy in and out of his soul. A blurred image of him thrusting slowly and deeply between my milky skinned legs covers my body in chills. I quickly look beside me to see that side of the bed empty. A sense of sadness overcomes me in an instant at his lost presence.

I swing my feet off to the side of the bed my toes instantly touching the cold wood of the floor. My eyes spot the black t-shirt thrown to the ground near the corner of the room next to a beautiful but antique guitar. I rush over to it ignoring the soreness of my limbs. I reach down gripping the cloth material and pulling it over my now cold body. The soft material covers me just beneath the line of my bottom. I run my fingers over the nicely fitted strings strumming a light sound. Imagining him playing brings a small smile to my face.

Five minutes later I find myself walking through the small hall and into the front room that leads toward the kitchen. The soft and warm familiar smell of those home-style golden cakes fills my nostrils reminding me of the dream I had not too long ago. I slowly walk into the space that covers the kitchen.

He is standing there in front of the small stove with his bare back to me. Butterflies float inside of my stomach at the sight of his presence. I watch the beautiful muscles near his shoulders move as he flips the pancakes inside of the pan. He randomly runs his hand through his sunny bed hair leaving it messy without another care.

"Hongry?" His raspy and accented voice startles me. "Yeh don walk dat quietly ya kno.." He states.

I walk over to him peeking around his body to look into the pan. I see the round thickness bubbling before he flips it to the golden and already cooked side. Before I know it he is turning around and lifting me onto the opposite counter emitting a squeal from deep within my throat.