Monday, April 28, 2014

My bedroom at the village house receives morning light. Often I wake at dawn and then doze again till the time I want to start my day. Sunday was no different, but I felt a presence in the room, in my bed and then I remembered.

I rolled over, he faced away from me, the bedding pushed down to his waist, exposing his finely muscled back and shoulders. Surfing most every day does wonderful things to a man's body. I wanted to touch and kiss his shoulders, but I resisted, as he slept so peacefully. And I slipped off again to thoughts of morning wood.



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