The Weekend - Completed

Chapter 23

As I started to come out of my blissful slumber I noticed a number of things, firstly my head was still resting on Daniel's chest in the exact same position it had been when we finally drifted off to sleep only a few hours earlier. I observed his arm was still wound lightly round my shoulder, poor guy that arm's got to have lost all sensation long ago, the pins and needles when he tries resurrecting THAT are going to be a bitch, I mused.

Next I noticed the grey t-shirt he'd reluctantly given me to sleep in was still covering everything it needed to. I smiled to myself as I remembered his sulking pout when I'd refused to follow his lead and strip down to my underwear, and then I'd exasperated him more by pointing out it will be covering my modesty all night.

Finally I registered the awful taste in my mouth, I'm not sure what had died in there but it left an ungodly aftertaste. My tongue felt like an old, dry cracker and as I tried to muster up some saliva to lick my lips with I was again grossed out by the taste in my mouth.

I decided a bathroom trip was greatly in order, as I gently lifted my head off Daniel I realised why my mouth was so arid, as a small lake of drool was pooling on his chest. Oh gross, yeah I'd need to sort that out before he woke up. As I pulled far enough away I could feel dampness on one side of my face, it was one of two things; sweat or slobber, neither were very sexy, I rushed with some urgency into the bathroom, but not before gently laying one of his discarded socks on the pool of drool.

Once in the safety of the bathroom I looked in the mirror, DEAR GOD! I'm so glad I woke up first. My hair looked like I was trying out for a part in Michael Jackson's 'Thriller' video and as my eyes finally fell on my face I could see a crusty snail trail of spit meandering across the damp side of my face, 'hmmm attractive' I thought sardonically.

I didn't have a brush and looking round the tiny bathroom it appeared neither did Daniel. So I did the best I could with what I had, I flattened my hair down and tied it in a tight, untidy ponytail, not great but a massive improvement on thriller head. Next I washed my face, I was glad to see he'd stretched to soap, even though I secretly believed the lady who comes in to clean probably leaves it for them.

Finally remembering the death in my mouth I did some rather skilful finger brushing and nail tongue scrapping, not pleasant I know but they actually felt quite clean, I was all minty fresh. It was all good.

The T-Shirt he'd given me was thankfully quite long and covered everything it needed to. But I pulled it down just to make sure. I crept silently back into bed, again ensuring my reticence was intact, I delicately removed the soggy sock from his chest and slipped it onto the floor. Having averted an embarrassing crisis by quick thinking and a very absorbent sock, I congratulated myself internally.

Lying flat on his back Daniel looked so peaceful and contented. As my eyes moved slowly down from his beautiful face to take in the rest of his body, I realised I had never really looked at him like that before. I knew he was fit but I'd never actually looked at his body and it seemed like a crime to let this opportunity pass me by, so with my head elevated and resting on the palm of my weight bearing arm I began my inspection.

First I checked his arms, yeah they were great, muscular without looking like some zealot on 'steds', but I knew that already, as I'd spent so much time this last week with them wrapped around me. My eyes drifted to his chest, his strong toned muscles expanding and contracting with the rhythm of his breathing, next they moved to his stomach; even in his relaxed state I could see the contours of his six pack. Then my eyes went lower, underneath his black boxer shorts was I'm certain a great ass, but I wouldn't be checking that for myself today I giggled. Then finally I took in his lean, strong legs, he was a bit of a conundrum; he had the slim legs of a runner but the physicality of a rugby player, either way they looked great. Now my perusal was complete I returned my gaze to his chest and stomach, the smooth curved outlines of his muscles looked almost artistic. I again looked at the hilly peaks and troths of his six pack, not thinking or perhaps not caring I gently ran my fingers over them, I was overwhelmed with the desire to know how his body felt on my skin.