So apparently once you turn 25 you're too old for the OU TX festivities in the West End. The crowds and the yelling and the drinking used to be exhilarating. But now it's exhausting. Anyway, the good news is, I'm home early enough to blog before I go to bed! But I have had a few drinks and I'm missing Cayden a LOT, so I apologize for this raunchy post. Mom, Dad, coworkers, skip this one.
When I woke up the next morning, I didn't feel Cayden's arm around my waist. With my eyes still closed I reached out and felt nothing but cool sheets at my side. I had a moment of panic. Had Cayden left me? Did he fall out of the bed? Had I dreamt this whole relationship and I was just now waking up? Imagine that. what if I ended this whole blog with "and then I woke up."
But when my eye shot open and my head flung off the pillow so fast I almost gave myself whiplash, I saw that Cayden was still there, on the other side of the bed. He was real. Our relationship was real. I wasn't dreaming.
Just to make sure, I reached out to touch him.
"Good morning, baby," he said in his sleepy voice. Now, if you will, imagine that delicious British accent saying those words. Now imagine that delicious British accent saying those words in a scruffy, masculine, morning voice when you know all he's wearing is boxer briefs. I wanted to rip my panties off and jump on him. You know, ring the morning in the right way. But then I remembered where we were. We were at my parents house. Through the door I could hear the TV downstairs, so that meant my parents were awake. And if I could hear them, then they could hear me. Damn.
"This bed is huge!" he said, reaching across the bed toward me and pulling me into his arms. That's why I thought I was alone when we woke up. It was our first time sharing a king-sized bed and somehow we ended up on complete opposite sides. It bothered me that I knew we must have spent the past 8 hours not touching.
But as I lay there spooned against him, we were definitely touching. Part of him was touching me a little more than the rest, if you know what I'm saying. You can blame it on the fact that it was morning, but I'm going to chalk it up to the fact that he just wanted me that bad. Good thing I wanted him just as bad.
I turned in his arms to face him, but kept my face against his chest because we hadn't left a stash of Tic Tacs or Winterfresh LifeSavers next to the bed.
"Shhhhh," I said as I put one finger up to my mouth in the universal "keep quiet" signal. Then I reached my other hand down his stomach until I found what I was looking for. He made a sound that I translated to "I want to make a sound, but I'm going to shut the hell up so you continue."
I could tell he wanted to wiggle away from me because he wasn't sure if he could keep quiet, but I tightened my grip so he knew I wasn't letting go. I smiled up at him and he reached his hand down my stomach as well. I tried to suck it in, but when you're on your side, there's really no way around that. You just have to hope he reaches his destination fast so you can regain your self-confidence. Or maybe that's just me. But alas, he found what he was looking for.
We both kept our mouths shut while we touched each other. Uneven breaths acted as our non-verbal communication. Sighs and gasps and shaky inhalations replaces moans and groans and phrases like "Holy fucking shit," and "No, not there. Yes, THERE!"
We stayed as silent as possible. Cayden hovered over me, his biceps and triceps flexing under his tan skin, I pressed my palms against the wall while I was on my back to keep the bed from rocking against it. Any knocking sound and my dogs would run up the stairs and break the door down. Awkward.
Through eye contact and body signals we read each other: who wanted what, where, at what rhythm. There was something thrilling about silent sex. It was almost like a challenge, who can control themselves and who can't. He turned me over and pulled me onto my knees and gripped my hips. I covered my mouth with my hand while he pushed himself back inside me. I almost lost the silent game. When he reached around me and started touching me while he was in me, I knew for sure I was about to lose the silent game. And from the sound of his breathing and the rhythm of his hips, maybe he was about to lose, too.
I buried my face in my pillow to muffle the sounds I couldn't hold back.
We finally pulled ourselves out of bed an hour later. As we padded down the stairs only four dogs greeted us. I noticed Noelle's dogs were missing and the sofa bed was folded back up. Then I remembered she had to work at 6 am, or some ungodly hour for a Saturday morning. It was Saturday, Sept. 11. Cayden's birthday.
"Happy birthday!" my mom said as we rounded the corner into the living room. Damnit. She beat me to it. I would have lost girlfriend points, but I'd already given him birthday sex.
"Thank you," Cayden said, his morning voice had transformed to his afternoon voice. Sexy and smooth and beautiful.
"Yeah, happy birthday, babe!" I said, noticing my morning voice was still fully intact. Groggy and rough and pretty much just gross.
"He has a name, you know," Meg said from the kitchen table. I thought about it for a minute and then realized she was right. I'd been calling him babe and baby since he'd arrived. I was THAT girl! Leave it to Meg to call me out on that one.
"So, what's for breakfast?" I asked, my mouth watering with thoughts of bacon, biscuits, and eggs over-medium. Seems I'd worked up quite an appetite.
"Well, Corbin has an orthodontist appointment," Dad said, "so we thought we'd hit up Main Street Cafe because it's close to where he's going, that way he can meet us."
I'd only been to Main Street Cafe once, and I remembered their coffee tasting stale and the biscuits and gravy not being as delicious as Whataburger's. (Don't knock it until you've tried it. It's freakin good.)
We finished our coffee and Meg and I went upstairs to get changed and wake Corbin up (or send the dogs in to do so). Once upstairs, Meg turned to me, "So I'm going to have to wash those sheets when you leave aren't I?"