Page 56 of Dreams and Reptiles

He pressed his fingers to my lips and snuggled in closer as sleep pulled me under.

I woke as gray light filled the room and Francis wasn’t in bed with me. I started to go looking for him, but then I caught movement outside the slider. Francis sat on a lounger on the balcony, wrapped in a bathrobe with his knees pulled up, drinking from a mug. I watched him for a long time, worried he might be upset after last night, but then he smiled at something, and I relaxed.

I went into the bathroom and took care of business, then slid back into bed, enjoying the view of Francis with his morning thoughts.

After all the negotiations, all the banter and sharing of personal details, we’d consummated our agreement, and it had been the most incredible sex of my life. I’d been nervous leading up to the act with Francis, but once we came upstairs, I stopped worrying about whether I was doing it right, like I had with previous lovers. Even my wife had never been fully satisfied, a fact we’d talked about at length. After years of self-reflection, I came to the conclusion that it hadn’t been my bisexuality, because I’d had positive experiences with men and women after my divorce. I just think we weren’t compatible, or maybe disappointments in other areas of our life together bled over into our sex life.

Francis stood and came back inside, the slider barely making a sound.

“Good morning,” I said, and it startled him.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

He set down his mug on a table by the window and approached the bed hesitantly.

I reached for him and ran my hand up under his robe and the back of his thigh. “I was dreaming of you.”

“A good dream?”

“A very good dream. Come here.” I pulled back the covers, and he dropped his robe before sliding in next to me.

“Last night was a dream,” he said, kissing my chest. “I’m glad we waited.”

“If it meant you feeling one hundred percent about it, I would have waited forever, Francis. I mean it.”

“I know you would have, and that’s why I was ready. But we didn’t negotiate terms going forward.”

I pulled him on top of me and brushed his hair back from his face. “You mean, who makes the coffee and cooks breakfast? Who gets what side of the bed?”

“I was actually going to ask if last night was okay and whether you wanted more?”

“Were you worried?” I asked, stroking his back. “Francis, last night was so good. I’m so happy. Why, was it not⁠—”

“It was perfect. I hoped it was for you, too. Hoped this was the first of many nights.”

“God, I want that.” I couldn’t help the huge smile that took over my face. “In fact, I’m pretty sure the refractory period is over.”

“Is that right?” He sucked in a breath and was already moving his hips against me when I slid my hand between us and grabbed both of our cocks together. He pushed up on his hands and straddled my thighs, giving me a better angle. I reached for the lube, and he took it from me, poured some in my hand, and I stroked us with both of mine.

“I love those big hands of yours, Kendall mine.”

“All the better to love you with,” I said—and love him I did, with my body and my heart, and though it was still scary at forty-seven years old to say those words, the relieved smile on his face let me know it was just what he’d needed to hear.

He thrust harder into my hands and sped up his movements until we were both panting and sweaty. Like the night before, he took what he needed from me, and I loved watching him move with abandon, hearing him moan softly, feeling his lithe body shake against mine.

When he came, he moaned, and it turned into a series of long sighs that were so damn sexy, I wasn’t far behind him. He collapsed on top of me just as my orgasm hit in luscious waves, the morning sex kind that are sleepy, warm, and move through your whole body unhindered by the tension you carry throughout the day. Your body is still relaxed, and it heightens the sensations exponentially.

“The answer to your earlier question,” he said, still out of breath, “is that of course I cook breakfast and fix the coffee. Remember? Feeding you is my absolute pleasure.”

“Well, mine are a tie between acts of service and touch, so I guess I’m done.”

I held on, keeping his arms pinned as he tried to pinch me, and we both laughed.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. I actually brought you something last night, but being late to the party meant I couldn’t take care of it for you.”

“You didn’t have to bring me anything,” he said, rolling to his side.

“But I did, so whenever we manage to get downstairs, I’ll show you.”