That New Year's Eve boat party was epic! I can't wait to tell Gio.

After we got off the yacht at two in the morning, I was too drunk to drive. So we hailed a taxi and pretty much made out like teens in the backseat all the way to her apartment. We were lip to lip at her door as she tried to unlock it, and she practically dragged me by my collar into her bedroom and pulled me down on top of her on her bed. My hands that had been all over her in the cab are now sliding up her thigh underneath the long slits of her dress. She is too fucking sexy, and she's practically trying to unwrap me like a present on Christmas morning. 

Well, sort of. 

The urgency is there, but as I look at her now, she's only got one eye open, and her dexterity is like that of a two-year-old struggling to undo a button.

I push her hands off and do it myself, peeling my shirt off and throwing it on the floor. Leigh closes her eyes and hums with pleasure as I lay kisses down her neck onto her exposed shoulder and down towards her chest. The wide vee cut of her dress has been pulled off-center, exposing a sheer black bra underneath. I kiss her breast right at the edge of the bra and massage the other, finding and perking her nipple between my fingers. I pull her bra aside and take her other nipple in my mouth as she moans. Man, I am so turned on right now!

"Mmm. Fuck me, Char'lee."

My heart thumps, and my body pulses with excitement, yet something doesn't feel right.

I raise my head to look at her, and her head seems loose, eyes still closed. But... not like in ecstasy closed, more like... half asleep closed. Her eye makeup is smeared a little on one side, and her lipstick is all kissed off. She still looks smoking hot, though. Christ. There's nothing more I'd rather do than have sex with her right now—but not like this. She's clearly drunk and out of it. If we have sex, I want her to really remember it. And I definitely don't want her to regret it. The clock on her nightstand glows brightly — 2:32 am.

"I don't know, Leigh," I say, nuzzling her neck. "Maybe not tonight?" I try to kiss her lips again, but she moves her mouth away.

"Why? You can't geddet up or sumthin?"

I cough. "Um, that's definitely not the problem."

"I've got condoms in my drawer," she says, reaching her arm toward her nightstand.

"No, it's just—" I'm temporarily rendered speechless as Leigh grabs ahold of my dick through my jeans.

"Oh my god, Charlie!" her eyes suddenly light up. "You're a big boy. And fuck, you're so hard! You're gonna feel so good." She releases me to try to unbutton my pants, but she's totally incapable. 

Scooting further away from her, I pull her dress back over her bra, but she batts my hand away, her forehead creasing.

"Fuck that shit. Wuts wrong? Come on. I want you to. I thought you wanted me?"

"I do! God, I do, Leigh," I say, running a hand over my face, feeling so frustrated we drank all that free champagne earlier. "I just don't want to go too fast tonight. Okay?"

She attempts an eye roll, but she just ends up with her eyes closed again.

"Come here," I say. I lie up further on her bed, pulling her into a spoon position. I pull her hips into mine, and I'm sure she can feel how hard I still am for her right now. But instead of grinding on her, I begin to rub her back.

"Mmm," she hums. "That feels good."

"I bet it does," I smile.

Actually, I've always loved giving massages, and I'm quite good at it now. Rubbing her back more, I push down some long strokes with my thumbs. She hums with approval, so I continue a little harder. Down and up. Soft and then deep. A slow, sensual rhythm.

Soon, her breathing slows. 

"Leigh?" I whisper, but she doesn't respond. 

Wrapping my arm around her, my heart feels strangely full at that moment. Is it odd that I loved that so much? Massaging her till she fell asleep? I mean, I've never just slept with a girl in my arms if we didn't have sex first. I thought I'd feel frustrated right now, but it actually feels like this perfect moment, yannoe? 

I let my eyes softly close and hug her a little tighter before falling into a deep sleep.

⚝⚝⚝

When I'm ready to open them again, it's morning. I'm lying on my back, and it feels like my bladder is about to freakin explode. It's like something is literally pushing on it, trying to make me wet the bed. Then, the feeling moves to a light prodding of my morning wood, which really doesn't feel that great either.

"Leigh—" I begin, but I look to my right, and I see that she's not there. 

"What the—" I look down to behold an orange cat the freakish size of a watermelon, intently kneading my dick through the blanket. 

I'm just about to whack the cat off me when I hear giggling from across the room. My head quickly rotates to locate the sound. Leigh is leaning in the door frame of her room, with damp hair, holding a Garfield coffee mug and wearing an oversized black Pat Benatar t-shirt with a pair of colorful cartoon hamster pajama bottoms underneath.

"What the hell? What's he doing to me?" I gesture towards the beast. 

"That means he likes you. Right Beans?" she coos. "Inky and Onyx aren't really lap cats."

I look to see two more cats perched on the end of the bed, staring disapprovingly at the situation like pissed-off Egyptian cat deities. 

"I get the names Inky and Onyx, but why's his name Beans?" I say, pulling him off my crotch and further up the bed, but Bean returns immediately to continue his message on my chest. Flipping over on my stomach, I let him do his magic to my back. It actually feels kinda good.

"Oh, his real name is Arnold," she explains. "But I call him Beans because he bean-shaped... and, well, he farts a lot."

I close my eyes. "Great. I think I smell it now that you mention it."

"And he might drool on you, too, because of his snaggle tooth."

"What?" I knock him off me.

"Oh, I'm sorry CD was mean to you, Beans. I know. No one loves you but me," Leigh says, coming over and scooping him up. 

"What's CD? My last name is Hartwell."

"Stands for chicken dance, Chicken Dance." As she exits the room, Beans glares at me with narrowed eyes and his one long tooth poking up toward his nose.

Grabbing my shirt off the floor, I head to the bathroom to take a leek. As I wash my hands in the sink, I see a few of Leigh's lipstick marks still smeared on my mouth and jaw. I wash my face and put my shirt back on. When I come out a few minutes later, feeling much more refreshed, the wonderful smell of bacon fills my nostrils. I find Leigh in the kitchen making breakfast.

"How do you like your eggs," she asks over her shoulder, placing a big cast iron skillet on the burner. She flicks her silky dark hair out of her way and over her shoulders with the backs of her fingers. Damn. She looks so stinking sexy, even in her baggy jammies—her shirt all bunched up a bit over her round ass.

I come up and grab her hips from behind. "I like them all the ways," I murmur into her neck, letting my hands run up and down her thighs. I feel myself lengthening in my jeans, and I'm hoping maybe we can do a take-two of last night.

She cracks an egg on the side of the pan. "I said eggs, not legs, Charlie. Over easy, okay?"

"Yeah. I'm easy," I say, moving my hands up under her shirt, hoping she's not wearing a bra yet.

She removes my hands before I can find out. "Charlie, it's not going to happen this morning, okay? I'm making us breakfast, but then you have to go."

My eyebrows shoot up. "What?" I actually had a whole adventurous and romantic day with her planned out in my head. "I thought we were going to spend New Year's together."

"Ugh!" She cracks another egg and then spins around, her pretty mouth unsmiling, and pushes me back. But I kind of love it when she's all fired up.  

"Don't start that again," she warns me. "We did spend New Year's together. Last night."

"But—"

"Look, last night was fun, but I'm not ready for a whole... thing. And even if we did start a—" She pauses, locking me with her beautiful jungle green eyes, then they abruptly drop to the large bulge in my pants."Thing... between us—" 

My body temperature skyrockets with her words and the hungry way she's looking at me right now. Then her eyes slide back up to meet mine. "I need space, Charlie."

"Oh. Right. Totally. I need space, too," I stammer. She raises her eyebrows and then crosses her arms in obvious skepticism.

"I do. I'm very independent," I insist. I stop to clear my throat and then continue, "But I mean... after a few days... you'd let me take you out again?" I cock my head to the side adorably, making her smile.

"I need at least a week. But yes. I'll let you take me out again."  

Then her smile dims, but the sparkle in her eyes remains. Her voice drops an octave, "But if I do, I want to come next time, okay." Then she turns back to the stove. "Coffee's ready. Cups are in the cupboard by the sink."

But I'm still stuck on the way she pointedly emphasized those words in the other sentence to register the one about coffee. My forehead bunches up in confusion.

"But if you do, you want to come?" I repeat. "What?"

She looks over her shoulder nonchalantly straight to my dick. Oh. 

I drag my hands over my face. "Shit Leigh. Don't tease me right now," I say with fire burning in my eyes.

A laugh ripples out from her throat. "Oh, but you love it, don't you."

"Yeah I fucking do!" I say, moving towards her again.

She wags her finger at me. "Down boy. Next time."