She stretches her arms like a cat waking from a nap on a sun laden sill. “Is it morning already?”“Barely.”“I’m sleepy.” Eyes still close..., she rises to head for the bathroom, pauses on the edge of the bed to gather herself before committing to next steps, head bent forward, her naked back fully exposed. She’s a figure from an Impressionist painting, a Monet bather frozen in a moment of endless time. He kisses the length of her iconic brown back.Papaya and mango await her return to their love. “My god you’re beautiful,” I said quietly, clearing some of the hair from her face. She blushed like a little girl at the compliment and tried to sit up as well but just couldn’t make it, flopping back down. She held a hand over her stomach and grimaced, gently rubbing her belly. “Are you alright?” Can I get you anything?” “I’m just getting old is all, can’t fuck like I used to,” she chuckled, “Can you get me something cold to drink though, I’m dying.” “Sure thing,” I leaned down and. More

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