Ali eventually came downstairs. She had a tired expression on her face and was wearing a typical comfy indoor weekend outfit – just soft sweat shorts and a simple string top. I could tell she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath, and it occurred to me that I wouldn’t really have noticed that sort of thing a few weeks ago.
Her hair was still wet and it seemed like she had only made a half-hearted attempt to dry it. She moseyed over to my table and dropped down opposite me, mumbling in a hoarse voice:
“Mh… bacon…?”
I passed her the plate and she quickly made herself a bacon and egg sandwich before scarfing it down like a hungry predator. Less than a minute later, she stood back up and left the table to go watch T.V. in the living room. As she walked away, I noticed her limping. She managed to get to the couch but she clearly had difficulty walking, as if she had a sprain or something. I cleared the table and went to check on her.
“What’s wrong with your leg, did you hurt yourself?”
She replied in a weak voice, like she had been to a concert and screamed until her throat was sore.
“Yeah, just a little bit… well, you did.”
“Uh… me?”
“Yeah, that was really rough last night. I hurt inside.”
“Oh… I…”
I was about to apologize when I saw the smirk on her face.
“Don’t be sorry. It was awesome, being pounded like that. Can’t wait to do it again. I just have to take a break for a few days, you know.”
“Uh… oh, that’s… fine…”
“I can still use my mouth, though. Want me to suck you off?”
“Um.. no, no, I’m good…”
“Okay. Can you make me some tea? I have a sore throat.”
“Yeah… sure thing.”
There it was again, that amazingly relaxed attitude she showed to anything sex related. She could go from suggesting sex to asking for tea in two seconds – it was like we’d been doing it for years.
I went back to the kitchen to make her some tea with honey, the best thing I knew for a sore throat. I could actually use some myself. I too had gotten pretty loud last night. I brought her a big mug of tea as well as a smaller one for myself, sitting down in the chair opposite her. Then we just sat there for a while without saying anything, drinking our tea and watching the news. I didn’t quite catch what the stories were – I was distracted by my thoughts on the story that was developing under my own roof. Eventually, I couldn’t wait any longer.
“Hey, Alisha.”
“Hm?”
“This… thing we’re doing…”
“Fucking.”
“Uh… yeah…”
“Fun, right? It’s awesome.”
“Ah, yeah… just… shouldn’t we talk about…”
She interrupted me by putting down her mug a bit too firmly. Not aggressive, but not far from it.
“Okay, you wanna have ‘the talk’? Then let’s talk. I love fucking, okay? I love having sex with you and now that I’ve found out how awesome it is, I wanna keep doing it. There. Talk done.”
She was beginning to get her voice back, but she was trying to steamroll me, that much was clear. I wasn’t happy with that, so I shook my head and told her clearly:
“No, I still need to talk about something. I have… questions.”