Jet Lagged

I slowly open my eyes and look at the time. 1:14 a.m.

Of course. Because it was 6:14 a.m. in Casablanca. I would be up with the rising sun, possibly having coffee on the veranda right about now. Instead, I am back home, up in the middle of the night with a raging boner because of this sex dream I just had.

Except it wasn’t just a dream. Shit. No bueno.

I turn toward Beau. Bonito is his full name, but Beau is what everyone calls him. My Beau, my beautiful Italian stallion, sleeping sideways in a curled-up position right under my armpit, his favorite spot.

I kiss his forehead, not to wake him, but just because. Because I love him. He is my entire heart.

Yet my hard-on was betraying my heart and my mind right now. My hard-on had an aching for someone else.

Shit.

I sit up and take a deep breath, slowly exhale. I get out of bed and go to the en suite bathroom to pee. Then I close the toilet seat cover and sit down. I close my eyes and remember... everything.

That kiss, that fucking kiss. It was soft at first, just lips gently pressed together, then a pull of his lower lip on my top lip, the brush of his tongue on my lips, then through them to taste my tongue, then I’m tasting his.

It should have started and stopped right there with the kiss. But who were we kidding? We...