The Next Morning

"I don't really do awkward morning afters," I told him as we spooned in his super-soft (I was definitely going to have a sore back kind of soft) bed.

"Do you think this is awkward?" There was a touch of insult, maybe concern in his voice.

"No. Not at all. I'm just saying so you know what to expect from me."

The fact that he held me a little tighter was unmistakable; neither was his contented sigh as he did so. I really wanted to say that I had never had a "morning after" to speak of, and so my declaration was really a newly established self-proclamation as well. But he didn't need to know that. And it would lead into one of those drab, stereotypical conversations where the girl goes - in a high pitched voice with doe eyes - "I've never done anything like this before!" I was not interested in going there; or devaluing what I had chosen with a bunch of blah-blah talk.

We continued to lay there, happily drowsy and still-spent from the night before; and definitely ignoring the fact that it was a Tuesday morning. I was delighting in the fact that he could balance such a voracious sexual appetite with the ability to cuddle. He held me in the I-love-to-be-near-you way of things and my heart was lapping it up, knowing that it had an expiration date.

Out of nowhere he goes, "Hey! You were wearing pretty panties last night!"

"My mom told me to always wear pretty undies to a birthday party," I giggled. I could feel his mind waking up as he continued to think aloud. His deep voice betrayed a dawning. And I could tell that it bothered him a little that he was behind on the take, but he didn't seem upset about it. I'd say that he was amused by an unexpected and happy surprise.

"Those were very pretty undies."

"Yes, they were. Thanks for noticing. I wasn't sure that you had a chance before you flung them across the room."

A deep, extremely contented chuckle answered me.

"And you packed an overnight bag."

"I did."

"How much of this do you plan? Some of it? All of it?" His tone was incredulous. As if, in the year we had known each other, he would never have believed such a thing possible from me. To his credit, not a lot of people would have. I don't really have that kind of reputation. Remember: I don't have morning afters to speak of, right?

I played it off. I knew that he wasn't angry. I knew that we'd chose the same thing again (and again; and again).

"Now, why the hell would I tell you?"

I answered back in my best sexy-snarky, "morning after" voice. He nipped the back of my neck and drew my body closer to his. I twisted so that I could face him and look into his happy eyes. I'd let him think whatever he'd like to keep that imagination juice flowing. I was okay with that. The truth is I hadn't planned anything. I had thought through different scenarios and prepared for different outcomes; but I couldn't have planned this. I had only hoped for it.