He talks about his new hobby: pickleball. More than once, I make him explain what a “dink” is. Something about a two-hundred-pound guy demonstrating and saying “dink” is hilarious.
The other reason I’m shooting the breeze?
It’s the first night Sabrina will sleep in my bedroom.
I’m as nervous as a teenager on his first date. We’ve spent countless hours together, even vacationing frequently. But we’ve always had our own rooms and never ventured beyond the friendship that came naturally from the beginning.
Living with her has made very clear that friendship is no longer enough for me. I’ll never force the issue, but my body isn’t as understanding. I can barely watch her load the dishwasher without getting hard.
Sharing a bed with my wife will be torture.
“It’s past midnight, you guys.” Mom taps Dad’s shoulder before giving me a hug. “Aren’t you tired, honey?”
“Actually, now that you’ve mentioned it,” my dad says, stretching.
“I meant Dexter! You didn’t play a hockey game tonight, my dear,” she says with a playful poke to his chest.
He takes her hand and kisses the knuckles. Julia and I roll our eyes at our parents’ blatant displays of affection.
“Where’s Sabrina?” I ask as we walk to the living room.
Julia hooks her arm into my elbow. “She’s getting ready upstairs. You can thank me later.”
My sister winks.
“Huh?!” I swallow the tight ball of uncertainty lodged in my throat because Sabrina is in my bedroom.
Oh, shit! Sabrina is in my bedroom!
I didn’t have time to wrap her gifts, thinking I’d have till tomorrow. Dammit, that’ll ruin my surprise!
Did I leave her gifts out or tuck them away? I can’t remember. Maybe she won’t even go into the walk-in closet.
Entering the bedroom, I notice the bathroom door is closed with the light on inside.
Whew, that’s good. While she’s finishing up in there, I’ll put my gifts on a tall shelf and get ready for bed.
A bed in which Sabrina will be sleeping inches away.
Down, boy, I say to my traitorous dick pointing up at the ceiling. I need to tighten the leash on my lust. I’m not some horny teenager; I’m a man in a complicated situation. My brain needs to take charge of my body.
Frustrated, I burst into the walk-in closet.
Before me is an image that knocks the air out of my lungs.
Sabrina is inside, her back to the full-length mirror as she twists to get a view of the fullest, roundest ass I’ve ever seen.
I see red. Literally. Her red outfit is gorgeous, ending at the top of her thighs and barely covering the outline of a matching G-string. She jumps in surprise, making her breasts bounce in their lacy cages.
With a high-pitched voice, she rambles, “Oh shit, I . . . I couldn’t see the full outfit in the bathroom. And, um, and Julia said this is supposed to end at the . . . at the . . . oh my god, Dex!”
She’s nearly shrill, embarrassment tipping over to panic. “Say something normal or get out, please!” she screeches.
Her hands wrap over her front to cover her breasts and apex, but the movement makes her bend forward. My eyes focus on the mirror where her ass is tilted up.
My brain is no longer in charge.
“Those can’t be my only two choices, Sabrina,” I say, taking a step forward. “You can’t be this fucking hot and expect me to walk away.”
