Dreamy Dylan

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#53 You, me, no shirts

Andre wasn’t kidding about needing half an hour on the toilet in the morning. I kind of thought he was. When I wake up at 9, he’s not in bed with me. It takes me a second to figure out where I am and why I’m alone in a bed that’s not my own, but then I remember. I tiptoe out of the room to see if Andre is doing his whole IBS morning thing or if he’s making breakfast or something. I see light coming from underneath the bathroom door, and I think I even hear a quiet groan, so I quickly go back to bed. The last thing I want is to embarrass him.

Unfortunately for me, I am wide awake and completely unable to go back to sleep. I last for ten minutes in bed alone before I get up, tiptoe past the bathroom again, beyond happy that the toilet and the shower are in separate rooms. I sneak in to brush my teeth and freshen up before making my way to the kitchen.

I know Andre by now. I know what he likes for breakfast, even though I’ve never spent the night before. He always has a small bowl of lactose free yogurt with some fresh strawberries. And, of course, some coffee. I hunt for everything I need, and find eggs and bacon to make for myself. I put on some music on my phone and dance to it while I set the table and get our food ready.

Just when I am flipping my omelet, I hear a deep, sexy grunt behind me.

“Good morning!” I spin around with a wide grin.

“This is the best sight I’ve ever seen in my whole entire life.” His eyes move over my body, and there’s lots of it on show this morning since I didn’t put on anything when I got out of bed. I’m still in nothing but my boxer shorts, and it’s nice to see Andre is loving the view. He looks very cute himself, with his messed-up hair and his pajamas wrinkled and a little askew.

“Right back at you.” I gesture to the table. “Sit, sit. I made breakfast.”

Instead of doing as he’s told, he comes over to kiss me. He definitely brushed his teeth too. I love this phase in a relationship where you both put in as much effort as you can. It makes you feel so fuzzy inside, and appreciated, and… well, sexy. I love feeling sexy. He grabs my ass while he kisses me, and I let my hands wander down his back, digging my nails in.

“See?” I whisper when we break apart to catch our breath. “Having me spend the night isn’t the end of the world, now is it?”

He smiles. “No, it’s definitely not.”

“Breakfast?” I hesitate. “Or… back to bed?”

Andre takes a step back, scratching the back of his neck. “I’d love to, but… not right now. Mornings are not that great for me. My belly is still upset, and it takes a moment to digest my breakfast, and I just…”

“You don’t want our first time to be right now.” Of course I’m in the mood and would prefer to be dragged into the bedroom like we’re cavemen, but I understand that if he doesn’t feel that great right now, he doesn’t want to get naked. “Besides, I went through all this trouble to dump strawberries into yogurt for you, so you’d better eat it.”

He looks relieved that I understand. We sit down together to eat, and he makes a face at the coffee I made.

“This is sacrilege,” he tells me as he gets up to make a new pot. “You don’t go into the kitchen of a barista and make coffee this bad. It should be illegal.”

“It’s not that bad!” I take a sip, only to realize he’s right. It’s bloody awful. “Okay, I’m throwing this out.”

“Are you going to stay almost completely naked all through breakfast?” he asks, eyeing me again.

“Of course. Why put on clothes when I can have you ogling me all morning?”

That makes him laugh. “Excellent point.”

We chat all throughout breakfast, playing footsie underneath the table for a while. We’re nauseatingly cute together and I love it. Eventually, we both need to go to work though, so we decide to shower and get dressed. I shower first, wrapping a towel around my waist afterwards. I do my whole ritual of rubbing lotion everywhere and plucking my eyebrows in front of the bedroom mirror so Andre can have the bathroom to himself. When he comes out, he’s wearing jeans and a shirt. I’d been hoping for some skin, but I guess he’s still not comfortable.

I go in for a hug, slipping my hands underneath his shirt from behind. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah,” he breathes, sounding uncertain.

“Hmm…” I caress his skin with my fingertips. “You’re so warm.” I push up his shirt a little - without sneaking a peek - so I can slide my hands further up. I can feel the back hair he was talking about, but it’s not like he’s a gorilla or anything. It must be one of those things where you only see your own flaws, whereas the person who loves you only sees the beauty. “Babe, your skin is so soft.”

He shivers, but I’m not sure why. I think it’s part nerves, part enjoying my tender touches.

“Your back hair?” I murmur before pressing a kiss to his lips. “Nothing to be worried about. I love it. Very manly. I can barely even grow a beard. I like a man who is a little more in touch with his primal side.” I make that last part sound teasing. “Usually means that he’s primal in the bedroom as well.”

Andre laughs. “I like your clean-shaven look.”

“I prefer your beard.” I rub my face against it while I pull up his shirt a little more. “Can I take it off? You can put it back on in a minute. I just want a peek.”

“I don’t…” He takes a deep breath. “Okay, yeah, sure.”

Finally, the shirt comes off.

He looks completely out of his element, and I tell myself to stop staring so I won’t make him too self-conscious. It’s impossible though. Of course, he’s got a belly, and he has what people refer to as man boobs. I know that sounds ugly, but he truly looks nothing but beautiful to me. He’s got smooth skin that’s a shade lighter than his face and arms, probably from not getting as much sun. Yeah, there are some stretch marks on his sides and belly, but they’re faded to a very light brown. Nothing that he should worry about.

I am itching to touch him again. I start at his chest, playing with his chest hairs, then I brush my fingers over his nipples, causing him to inhale sharply. I move further down, caressing his belly.

“You look great,” I tell him genuinely, pressing myself up against him and touching his back.

He squeezes me tightly, still feeling a little tense. “Do you want to… come over again tonight?”

“Fuck yes!” I pull back to meet his gaze. “Of course I do. Can I sleep over again?”

“If you want to.”

“Of course I want to.” I touch his chest again, loving how he’s trusting me like this. He’s more vulnerable than ever before, and he’s doing it to show me that he loves me. I can’t believe he believed for even a second that I’d think of him as anything but beautiful. “I’m not sure whether to make a big moment out of this or not,” I admit, leaning in for a kiss. “I don’t want to make this awkward, but I just want to say… I love you. I love the way you kiss, your kind heart, how funny you are, how we love the same TV shows and movies… I fucking love the way you give blowjobs because holy shit I’m still having flashbacks that made me wonder if I was dreaming or if you’re really the king of oral sex.”

He laughs softly. “Pretty sure that part was real.”

“And I love the way you look,” I go on. “Your casual clothing style, the way your hair is always a little messy from wearing your baseball cap, your chest hair that makes you look all manly, that you’re such a cuddly teddy bear but also this strong, manly… man.” Not my best descriptive words maybe, but I think he’s getting my point.

Andre gives me one more kiss before stepping away so he can put his shirt back on. He looks way more comfortable fully dressed, but I don’t think he’ll ever be as nervous again taking off his shirt for me. I’m hard as a rock, for crying out loud, and he knows it.

“Tonight,” he says, his voice all deep and sexy again. “You, me, no shirts.”

I can’t help it, that last part cracks me up. “Sounds like the best plan ever.”

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