She wasn’t letting him leave. Porn Monica looked to a box near the kitchen. Monica kissed his forehead and got off his lap. Monica grabbed at his short hair, rising to her elbow. “I love you. “Hi,” he nodded politely. Afterward, they continued in bed until dawn. Monica pictured his face at Deanna’s funeral, his blank, empty expression for over a month after it. She smiled, her head on his chest, his arm around her. “Dean, let’s talk,” Monica stopped him. “Thank you!” Monica took her bag from him. Monica set his phone down and continued her workout in her make-shift gym in the garage. “You ok?” he kissed her neck. Doggy style, reverse cow-girl, missionary, 69, standing, lotus blossom, they did it all.
