Waiting for The Other Shoe to Drop --Part 16 A

            Rich and I arrived at my place and I didn’t want to leave. We sat on the sofa, in silence – no TV, radio or talking. I just nestled against his chest and closed my eyes. He stroked my arm gently and the next thing I knew, I was knocked out. This was weird, scary and oh so comfortable. I don’t know how long I slumbered before Rich whispered in my ear, “If you didn’t want to go to the lake, you could’ve just said so.”

            My eyes fluttered open, and I found myself lying in his lap. “How long have I been sleeping?”

            “Not long, you hadn’t even started snoring yet.”

            “That’s because I don’t snore,” I replied with a small yawn. “I didn’t realize I was tired.”

            “Alcohol makes light weights sleepy.”

            Sitting up, I nodded. “And that I am. Umm, I guess I need to make some coffee so that we can get my car and you can head home. You have work in the morning.”

            “And you are going to sleep late and drink coffee all day? I don’t think that’s fair.”

            “What?” Was my house the place where Rich lost his mind? Was this land a graveyard before the builder laid my foundation and the spirit of an asshole hopping in every man who walked through my door?

            “What I’m saying is, I have some PTO and I’m going to call in tomorrow so I can wake up with you in my arms – if that’s all right with you.”

            “Whew,” I said. “I thought I was going to have to kick you out again.”

            He stroked my cheek and laughed. A good sign. “You don’t mind sleeping on the sofa, do you?” I asked.

            He raised his right eyebrow. “Are you still drunk?”

            “No.”

            “Then, I’m sleeping in the bed with you and I plan to add an s to orgasm.”

            “Is that so?”

            “As long as you’re sober because the next time we start talking about how good I am in bed, I don’t want to hear a word about you being drunk.”

            “Good in bed?”

            “As you recall,” he said. “We didn’t make it to the bed before.”

            Rising from the sofa, I stretched and pushed my booty out in his face. Rich grabbed a cheek and squeezed it gently. Then he stood behind me, wrapping his arm around my waist as I straightened my back. Feeling his hardness resting against my butt was a hell of turn on. All that talk about not sleeping with him and simply hanging out like two rational adults went out the window. And my panties went straight to my ankles.