Eleanor
I padded into the dining room barefoot, in my pink silk nightdress that stopped high on my thigh. My mind wandered to the night before as I descended the stairs, and I bit the inner corner of my mouth to hide my blush.
He was all I thought about last night, so much so that he had found his way into my dreams.
I lightly chuckled as the memories flooded in — memories of us tangled in the sheets, in positions I didn’t even know existed. And then I saw him, the object of my desires.
He was leaning against the wall at the foot of the stairs, his arms crossed. I couldn’t help but notice how bulgy his arms looked. He was gawking at me, not bothering to be subtle about it.
My heart skipped a beat. Suddenly I didn’t know how to walk. What foot did you put first before the other?
Maybe
