He led her to the bed and laid her down. Her dress was simple, thin-strapped with no ornaments or other details, but it was in satin, an enticing fabric for Kenneth. The man laid beside her and held his head up with his hand while the other roamed on Monday. He let a finger glide down the strap of her dress to her chest. He contoured the areola with his fingers.

Monday didn't wear a bra; she wore them to accommodate society. There, she didn't even think of the item. The sensations filtered through the fabric and let her bodys' reaction appear as her nipples peaked under the satin. Kenneths' hand glided downwards, "how would you depict this scene if you had to write it?" Asked the man as he slid his hand between her legs. For Kenneth, too, it was leisure time; he enjoyed the moments before sex and building the desire as well.

At the Four Knights, the man was hasty, and he didn't deliver his best performance. The intrusive sexual conversation, as brutal as it seemed, was an ice breaker. Even Monday was more at ease except when his fingers did certain things. They tried to break an entry between her legs, attempting to arouse her.

Mondays' body tensed up, "why do you want to know?" she replied within a gasp.

"I guess I want to understand what the hype is about."

"It's not the sex readers retain. It's the bond between the protagonists that counts, no matter their sexuality flag," Monday said as she pushed Kenneth and climbed on top of him. She was already too warm and refused to explode then. The man placed his hands on her hips, the woman who thought she could escape the heat felt trapped as she sat spot on the bulge in his trousers.

Kenneth tried to envision Monday riding in the same position. The image he mustered didn't seem so bad. The man wasn't a fan of the woman on top; the vision wasn't the most flattering at times. It was something he could try with her, but before thatㅡkenneth toppled Monday, he stared into her eyes and caressed her hairline. He kissed the tip of her nose, "write this scene."

The woman smiled as his beard brushed against her lips. His lips caressed hers before he kissed her slowly, tugging on either her upper or bottom lip. His hand grasped her breasts again. Suddenly he stood up and pulled her by the legs to the edge of the bed.

He lifted her dress to her hips level, her legs hung over the edge. Monday didn't trust him more than the first time, but the location, the ambiance, and the champagne that began to diffuse made the woman less reluctant.

Monday invited black lace briefs with red roses this time.

Kenneth kissed Mondays' inner thigh and worked his way up with his fictional rivals in mind. When he heard Gina, the men of Dayé Yeni's book were unearthly, excelling in everything. Hence, Kenneth invested himself with the mission of making the woman realize no man was better than one of flesh and blood. He pulled off her briefs. Monday released a mix of moans and giggles as the man embraced her lady parts with his lips before indulging in the main course.

Sex.

Some like it hot; Kenneth loved it steamy. The man lived up to his horoscope house; the Scorpio unleashed his stinger.

Everything in Mondays' body told her it was a mistake, but it felt too good, too breathtaking to be true. They revisited and rewrote all the classic positions before ticking off a few of the karma sutra. All the ingredients mingled in the right spot for the perfect scene. The woman even got to deliver the man a piece of her talent; nothing was more sensual for Kenneth as seeing her ride while sucking the tip of the fingers he introduced in the redness of her lips.

Sweat shimmered on her limbs, and the baby hairs freestyled as the heat detached them. Kenneths' heart stepped up a few notches, releasing a legion of freckles across his shoulders as Monday leaned forward to kiss him. Wet and slippery the two attempted to align their lips while keeping their bodies in motion. Sensations found themselves enhanced by the setting and their desire to satisfy one another.

Monday's eyes opened to a Sotto In Su [from below to above] foreshortening image on the ceiling that appeared to come for her the following morning. The art born during the renaissance, painted ceilings were also privileged pieces of the Rococo Baroque era.

What had she done?

Why did she sleep with him again?

Monday closed her eyes, and all the emotions surfaced. The sex was SoSOso good; the woman pursed her lips and shook her head from side to side. The man was a devil; on the last take, the woman had no choice but to verbally tell him, "Kenneth, stop, I can't," but she came harder as the orgasm stacked and lasted longer.

The woman turned to find him staring at her. She was sure the man's head was at her feet, following the ultimate position of the night.

"Good morning."

"Good morning."

"How long have you been awake?"

"I don't know, long enough," Kenneth replied.

The man played Eddy Murphy and pulled on the covers to see her feet. She had perfect Egyptian feet; the type was the most common. Her toes' height decreased from the big toe like a staircase. Kenneth was relieved she didn't have a Celtic or Greek where the second toe was more significant than the big toe.

No hairs or bunions but short nails; Kenneth forgave her. She had overall nice pieds. If his mother was a reference for many positive things in his life, her feet, on the other hand, were something he preferred to forget. The ballet dancers' were deformed, the bunions uncoverable without surgery. Kenneth remembered how even in summer, the woman would not wear sandals or how she could not fit some shoe styles.

If Kenneth allowed a woman in his life, she had to have beautiful feet he could look at and almost want to eat. The man had no inhibitions. When with the right person, all his fetishism penchant came to life.

"I must look a mess."

"You're a hot one then."

Monday smiled and got up. Kenneth watched her walk to the window naked. Their night together fixed a few things between them. No, Monday did not have the body of his dreams, the man thought as he stared at her small love handles, but he remembered how she described her characters. The man wished to reassure her with a change of his frowning gaze that had the woman wondering what element of herself shocked him.

She returned to the bed and sat beside him, "I better get going. I bet you have tons of things to do."

Kenneth was about to speak when he recalled he told Monday he was there for business. He didn't wish for the woman to know he came for her alone. The misleading statement would tempt Monday to think that perhaps there was more between them than the psychical chemistry.

The man wasn't ready to assume anything and decided to keep his mouth shut but a candid stare adorned on his face. Monday couldn't refrain from caressing his hairline.

"Poil de carrot [carrot head]," she whispered and instantly pulled back her hand as she realized she displayed a distinct sign of affection, but she also unleashed what one could consider a pet name.

Attachment.

The woman had never feared the noun as much as she did then. Kenneth, the man, had nothing to do with the wordy orator. The apparent excitement and overbaked enthusiasm remained tamed in private.

Monday preferred this Kenneth, who spoke with his eyes instead of his mouth. Her eyes traveled on his face to his shoulders and freckles. Unlike the man, Monday embraced people's imperfections or psychical uniqueness. There it was, the dots, big small she appreciated the sight of the ensemble just as she did the fact he had a slight tummy and an eye a little smaller than the other when tired.

Concerning criteria, it was clear which of the two was more delusional.

"Can I use the bathroom?"

The man nodded.

Monday got up and went to have a shower. The bathroom was at the height of all she saw until the instant. Charcoal marble walls, impeccable white hotel-branded towels, la Maison kept it standing to the very last minute. The pinnacle of the show was the range of Hermes Eau d'Orange Verte products the hotel provided their guests. The woman took a shower.

In the meantime, Kenneth sat up. His heart still pounded as when they slept together.

What did it mean?

Monday came out of the shower and immediately began to get dressed.

"Do you want to have some breakfast?"

"No, I'm good."

"You can stay a little while if you want."

"No, I need to get home."

What was wrong with her?

It was as though another woman had stepped out of the shower. The Monday that rushed to put on her boots appeared to want to make a run for it.

"I'll call you a taxi."

"Thank you," Monday said with fleeting eyes. Under the showerhead, the woman reflected, they had slept together twice. It was already too much. The Cancers' heart was marshmallows and fluff; the woman wished to stop the show before the emotional rollercoaster took off.

Kenneth barely had time to speak that the taxi was there, "wait a minute, Monday, I'll accompany you."

"No, Kenneth, please don't do that."

The man frowned as he tried to assess the situation, "ㅡeh, I, can I call you? I mean without you hanging up on me."

"Why would you do that? I'm not a fan of booty calls," Monday said as she headed to the bedrooms door.

Kenneth followed and pushed the door shut as Monday actioned the handle to open, "no, Monday, it's not for that."

"Then for what, Kenneth? It means nothing right," the woman stood waiting for a response.

Nothing came; they weren't friends nor lovers; Monday didn't see why they would keep in contact, "I had a wonderful night, Kenneth. Have a safe journey home."

The woman waited for Kenneth to take off his hand. She opened the door and walked away under his befuddled gaze. Monday understood the assignment too well for the man who found himself wishing she ignored what he said.