I woke up with my feet twisted in the bedsheets, the result of another restless night’s sleep. Work overload had been taking its toll on me, and I wasn’t getting the rest my body needed.
But there was another distraction at play, that of my roommate’s subdued noises upstairs. It wasn’t that they were being obnoxious or inconsiderate, but the exact opposite. Chad and Rachel were seemingly trying to be so quiet when they had sex that the muffled moans and sighs I heard seemed to be amplified by this one hundred and twenty year old Queen Anne house. My heart would still and my senses pique as my vivid imagination illustrated images of what I fantasized they were up to.
Pat of that fantasy was based on the brief relationship Rachel and I had almost a year ago. I had been on temporary assignment from the east coast when we met at a Hollywood dance club. She lived here, and was burning off stresses from her television production job. Her seductive energy and adventurous spirit appeared at the exact time that I was ready and open to receive it.
Rachel rocked my world during our sporadic six weeks together, as our demanding schedules schemed to keep us apart. We were only able to have sex three times: in a clothing store dressing room, on an empty rooftop lounge, and a roadside quickie while driving through the hills to a television production site. All were spontaneous opportunities. Each was a...