I felt a lot warmer and refreshed after a shower and shave, which was when I remembered I'd grabbed my washbag but left my clothes out in the living room.
Oh well, Ryan is probably still asleep.
Wrapping the towel around my waist, I sauntered out of the bathroom and straight to the living room, where the pull-out couch was already back in with my bag carefully placed on top of it, wide open, the box of condoms right in sight.
If the shower had warmed me up, my embarrassment made me feel hotter than a sun-dried, red chili pepper.
I smelled coffee and heard the sizzling noise of a cooked breakfast.
"How do you like your—" Ryan stopped by the door to the kitchen with a spatula in hand.
I raised my hands. "It wasn't me, Officer."
Ryan laughed, but I didn't miss the bobbing of his Adam's apple.
Did he like what he saw?
Our eyes met and, for a moment, nothing happened. It was as if we were both waiting for the other to make a microscopic move, so we'd know what to do next.
Maybe I was horny, or maybe I was losing my mind from being this close to Ryan and already naked, aside from the towel.
I felt my dick harden, and if I didn't do something, he'd see exactly the effect that just looking at him had on me.
I turned slowly toward my bag and bent over. Only enough that he'd have no choice but to stare at my ass. It was a good ass. I made sure of it through endless squat sessions, and Ryan would have to be straight or blind if he didn't at least look.
I picked my boxer shorts with the pizza slices and put them on, pulling them all the way up until I had to drop the towel.
In one single move, Ryan could see nothing, and everything, because as the towel fell to the floor, I pulled the waist of the boxer shorts up. I made sure my dick was safely tucked in, even if it was painfully hard, and ran my hands over my ass.
You can never be too careful with underwear, right?
Before I grabbed my jeans, I turned around to face Ryan. He hadn't moved an inch.
"Sunny-side up," I said as I put one leg in and then the other, pulling my jeans all the way up and doing the buttons so slowly I wanted to cry from the friction against my dick. It was definitely not enough.
"What?" he let out, more like a breath than a word.
“You were asking how I like my eggs? Sunny-side up."
He cleared his throat. "Yes, um, okay…thank you. Sunny-side…um coming right up."