The Amnesiac

Coming Home

Waking up with a pair of lips massaging your dick is not unexpected, given where you had fallen asleep.

You keep your eyes closed, but your subtle gulps and gasps clue the woman under the blanket in, and she merely giggles.

"Wakey, wakey," Emi says, running her smooth hands up and down your thighs. "Lily and Jaime went downstairs to fight over who gets to make you breakfast." Her fingers dip down to caress your inner thighs, making you tingle.

You lift the blanket up, revealing the gorgeous woman flashing a pure smile up at you. Her body weight is pressed comfortably into your legs.

"Who won?" You ask, putting a hand on her head to beckon her back down.

"Me," she quips, sucking the tip back into her mouth. Her fingers glide to gently cup your balls, and heaven comes down to greet you.

...

"I had a really nice time yesterday, and your breakfasts were... amazing." Your stomach lurches at the thought of food. The two girls, unable to come to an agreement, each prepared their own version of a three-course breakfast, and you had devoured them both to appease them. You hold your breath as you lean over to tie your shoes, praying the movement won't make you vomit.

"Come back soon!" Jaime demands.

Lily nods in assent. "Please."

Your eyes flicker up at her tone. Something else is behind her polite wave. Her eyes don't crinkle happily as she sends you off. They remain starkly flat, holding in the pain of letting you go.

You can't do much but wave back.

"I'll come back," you reply. "I promise."

...

The blare of an alarm clock is one of the few sounds shrilly and irritating enough to reach through the depths of the sleeping beauty to awaken her.

Her hand smacks a dozen different things on her nightstand before catching her phone. Pulling it to her face, she squints and presses the big button in the center before collapsing back to her pillow.

"Mmmmm..."

Rolling over, she extends her arms to wrap around her favorite teddy bear.

Her hands whiz through the air instead and land in a heap on her mattress. Her expectation of warmth fizzles out into a dreadful chill as she remembers why.

You're at someone else's house, most likely sleeping with some other girls.

Rae ponders that thought for a moment longer as she stares at your empty pillow. It sobers her up rather quickly. As she sits up, brushing her hair back into place, she stares at the empty spot in her bed, and her mind is pulled into the past.

Years ago, no one had believed her when she said that she'd be fine sharing her partner with her friends. No one even took her up on the offer at first, terrified of what it would mean for their relationship. In hindsight, it should've made sense to her, but it didn't.

Why wouldn't she want to share? Love isn't scarce. The more you give, the more you get, so you have even more to give.

Even now, when she considers the possibilities of where you might be right now - which house, which girl, which position - there's no jealousy. Love had always been her strength. Jealousy deserved no place in it.

But the moment she reaches over, crossing the invisible boundary between the two halves of the bed, she wishes you were there for her.

Her lips pucker in thought.