I stayed overnight and woke up with a headache, but I gave Duncan a blowjob anyway because… well, he did give me free pot. That was just basic manners, right?

Duncan was in a good mood, made me breakfast, and draped himself over me as I ate, nibbling at my ears in the way he had when he’d fucked me last night. It was probably the best morning we’d ever had together, and Duncan even kept most of his smart ass comments to himself. He snaked a hand between my legs and started the preliminary procedure of administering a handjob, but I saw the clock and insisted that I needed to go to work. Normally I had the night shift, but I’d offered to take on a coworker’s shift as well, which meant I’d be spending twelve hours locked in a liquor store. To his credit, Duncan did seem disappointed that I had to leave, and I was able to talk him into a real date, though of course I didn’t call it that. The term I used was “get a drink together.” It was the same thing.

The best part was getting to kiss him before I left. Of all my wildest fantasies, the lamest one was the one that always called to me the most—being kissed on the way out the door. It was a simple thing, seemingly meaningless. But its casual nature spoke to a familiar intimacy, the knowledge that small kisses would be provided in the future, so there was no need for anything grandiose. As I got into my car, I let myself daydream a little. I imagined Duncan as my boyfriend, as my roommate, someone I got to kiss and fuck and get high with as much as I liked. It was tempting, and it entertained me all the way to work.