Favorite Blog: REAL ORGASMS REALORGASMS awoke the next morning I was alone. The dull, pinkish-grey light spilling in the un-curtained windows hinted that it was hardly dawn; from my position in Daniel's bed I could only see the very tops of the city skyscrapers beyond.
Sighing, I rolled over and contemplated the empty pillow beside me. Daniel had woken me once in the night to make love again, proving once more that he was very, very good at it. It had been a slower coupling, tender and intimate, made more so by the inky dark of three a.m. He'd been right when he said he'd make the second time better; it had been, and the lingering ache between my thighs proved it.
And now he was gone and I wondered where and why. To spare us that awkward waking-up-together moment? To avoid all those cliche things virtual strangers say after a night together? I realized with a jolt that I was angry that Daniel had disconnected himself first; it meant he had the upper hand again.
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