wake up Wednesday morning, my hair and make-up a mess, and roll out of bed, landing on my ass. It wakes me up a little, but not much, and I get up to take a shower. I grab a towel and open my door, walking down the hall to the bathroom and stop dead in my tracks.

I forgot about Curtis, who is now sprawled out on the couch in his boxers, his pale chest bare for my eyes. He’s snoring softly, and I smile softly before going into the bathroom and softly closing the door.

As I turn on the shower, I undress myself, looking in the mirror. I suddenly remember all of what happened last night, and a small gasp escapes my lips. I saw him…and he saw me! A blush covers my body, and I quickly hop into the shower.

I lather my hair in shampoo and start singing softly to myself, rinsing the shampoo and replacing it with conditioner. I then begin to scrub my body with coconut soap, singing a bit louder without realizing it. I rinse my body slowly, then my hair, letting the hot water run over my supple breasts.

I turn off the water and lean against the wall for a moment before getting out and drying off, wrapping the towel around my chest. I take my toothbrush out and squeeze a little paste on it and brush my teeth, humming quietly. I finally look refreshed, and I spit into the sink, rinsing my mouth and putting my toothbrush back.

I walk out with the towel wrapped around me, looking into the living room, to see Curtis bent over the table, snorting a line of white powder from a circular fragment of glass. He shakes his head and groans, leaning back on the couch. I swallow, quickly walking to my room and closing the door.

I’ve been six months sober, and having that in my house is bad… I run my hand through my hair, chewing on the inside of my cheek in an attempt to distract myself. I pull off the towel, throwing it in the corner and quickly rummaging through my drawers, pulling out a plain black bra and panties, a grey sweatshirt, and black skinny jeans. I get dressed, put my hair up in a clip and brush my bangs, and put a thick ring of eyeliner around my eyes.

Walking out of my room takes a lot of self-control, I hope to gods he’s done. When I walk into the hallway, Curtis is pulling his clothes out of the dryer, kneeling on the floor and folding everything very quickly, his hands shaking.

“G-good morning, Curtis! Hope you slept well?” I stutter at first, and my voice startles him. He glances up and nods, forcing a smile.

“Y-yeah, thank you so much, I haven’t slept on a couch in ages, and…it was nice. Thank you, Cecilia,” he says, talking fast, his eyes darting around. Anyone could tell he’s high, and I can see he’s trying to hide it. I nod and walk to my kitchen, pulling out a half-gallon carton of milk from the fridge. As I pull out my instant breakfast drink mix, I grab two glasses instead of one, measuring out six tablespoons of powder each, then pouring the milk in and stirring.

He’s carrying his folded clothes to the living room table and tucking them away in his backpack, humming a song I recognize from Silence of the Lambs. I walk in and set the cup next to him, sitting down and staring at him.

Now that he’s clean, I can see some things I wasn’t able to before, how clear his eyes are, an icy blue that stuck in my head the night before. His hair is curly, but cleaner and dyed black, with little streaks of natural reddish-brown. He has very faint smile wrinkles, as if he was happy a lot time ago.

He looks up and sees me staring at him, and he smiles weakly. He looks embarrassed, he knows I can tell he’s high.

“Hey…I’m sorry…I’m a little high, I needed it, I’m sorry I did it in your house,” he babbles, looking down. I fidget with my hands, my insides having a war of conflict. He probably had enough to share, but I’ve been clean for so long.

“It’s alright, I remember being like you…I’ve been sixth months clean,” I say softly, watching him finish packing up his clothes, leaving out some torn jeans and a white v-neck, slightly faded. He picks these up and walks to the bathroom, smiling sheepishly at me before closing the door to get dressed.

I turn on my television, an older piece of technology, and put Silent Hill in the DVD player, curling up on the couch and fast-forwarding through the previews. Curtis comes out, running his fingers through his hair, and sits down next to me. We watch the first couple scenes in silence, and I feel his weight shift a little as he moves closer every so often, until his knee is touching mine.

I turn my head a little, glancing at him from the corner of my eye, and he’s staring straight ahead, but his hand slides to rest on my left thigh, a slight blush tinting his cheeks. I move a little closer, snuggling against his side shyly, and he puts his arm around me.

I didn’t mean to become romantically involved with someone, especially a junkie I met at an NA meeting, but here I am, cuddling Curtis on my couch. He’s twitching a little, but I think he’s calming down. He turns to look at me, then places his left hand on my right thigh, and his lips are pressing against mine.

This kiss is sweet, his soft lips gently touching mine, his tongue very shyly parting my lips to meet my own. My right hand goes up to touch his left cheek softly, kissing him back slowly. We kiss for what seems like seconds and days at the same time, my heart beating erratically in my chest, goosebumps all over my skin… It’s amazing.

I don’t know who ends the kiss, it almost feels like it melts away, and I sigh softly. It’s been so long since I’ve just kissed someone, without it being accompanied by something else. Curtis smiles and keeps his right arm around me, going back to watching the movie. I bite my lip, laughing to myself silently before resting my head on his chest and staring at the screen.

“I like you, Cecilia, even though the only thing I know about you is how long you’ve been clean. I want to get to know you more, when I’m better. I don’t think we should do any of this until then,” he says quietly, still staring at the screen.

“Where will you stay?” I ask, looking at him. He still doesnt look at me, and I nudge his side with my elbow. “Hey, where will you stay?”

“There’s a detox/rehab type place a few hours ago, and I’ll have to be gone for a while,” he responds, swallowing and fidgeting a little, “like a few months, or longer.” I turn all the way, getting on my knees on the couch.

“Months? How will I know if you’re okay?” I ask urgently, surprising myself with my nervousness. He smiles weakly, shrugging.

“I…come with me,” I say, pulling Curtis by his wrist into my bedroom and gently push him on my bed. My thoughts are scattered, but this feels right, and I pull off my sweater and slip off my jeans. He looks at me, confused, and tries to get off my bed.

“No, please stay,” I say softly, getting on the bed and straddling his lap. This kiss is desperate, and I tangle both my hands in his hair, pulling his face to mine. His hands tentatively go to my hips, and he kisses me back. We kiss and caress for a bit, but I feel such an intense need to go further.

I slip off my bra and toss it aside before practically ripping Curtis’ shirt off. I press my bare upper body against his as I kiss his neck, working my way up to nibble his ear. I feel his manhood start to harden through his jeans and eagerly get off him, flinging my panties aside and pulling off his jeans and boxers. His eyes watch his clothes join mine in one of the discard piles, and I lay next to him, pulling him on top of me.

We lock eyes, his lips slightly parted, and I bring my legs to his waist, pulling his hips to mine. Curtis reaches down, aligning his member with my aching cunt. I want him so badly, I can’t think straight. He slowly pushes in, groaning like he did when he was snorting meth on my coffee table, but it’s more strained, and he winces slightly. My eyes search his, slightly worried, but any anxiety I had dissipates when his lips one again press against mine, kissing me tenderly, his tongue looking for mine.

His left hand grips the headboard of the bed, and he thrusts his hips gently in a drawn-out manner, rocking into me like the ocean waves. His other hand is holding the back of my head, tangled in my hair. His lips leave mine, traveling down my cheek to my neck, kissing it softly, and I feel him sucking it a little as his right hand leaves my head. Curtis sits up, still gyrating his hips into mine, and his thumb begins rubbing my clit.

I whimper, shaking with pleasure, and I rock my hips toward his, going a little faster as we stare at each other. I watch him swallow hard and he leans back down, his arms going behind my back. He pulls me up and holds me up as he presses our chests together, thrusting up into me.

“I think I love you,” he groans in my ear, then kisses and bites my ear. He goes a little harder, and I involuntarily flinch as his cock hits some amazing spot inside.

“I think I love you too,” I mewl, and my inner walls flex n his cock, “and I think I’m about to cum.”

Curtis kisses me hard, thrusting passionately and I press against him and cry out as my orgasm washes over me. I wrap my arms around his neck and tangle my fingers in his hair, moaning as waves of ecstasy pulse through my body. He keeps going, and moments later, his hands squeeze me and I feel him fill me with cum, making me shudder.

He holds me tight for a while as we recover, and then kisses me slowly, pulling his softening cock out of me. He kisses both my cheeks and the tip of my nose, then gets out of bed and pulls on his boxers before getting back into bed to pull me against him.

“I’m leaving in the morning, I promise I’ll come back,” he whispers, and I feel my face become wet with tears but nod, grateful he can’t see me crying.

---