La Donna was still sleeping and I slipped right back into the hunger. Anytime I got up before her I would lie in bed just in case when she woke up she might feel like it. She would always tell me she wasn't a morning person. I guess that meant opposed to an evening person, although I wasn't seeing much difference. I rolled on my side and started rubbing her back. Her skin felt toasty through her tank top. After a few minutes I rolled away from her as if I was playing hard to get. Since last night I'd rolled over so much I felt like a trained dog. I began drifting back to sleep when I heard her waking up. I rolled toward her. Her face was six inches off the pillow, sleep-smeared and dazed. She looked like she was just hatched. I rubbed her back again and threw my leg over her behind. She yawned, smiled, darted a kiss on my shoulder and did some rolling of her own—right out of bed. I watched her ruddy ass as she toddled across the bedroom to the bathroom. Seven-twenty-seven. Work. I felt like crying.
