Hours later, Don was out cold.
The mattress dipped under his weight, one arm tossed over his chest, briefs clinging low on his hips.
Knock-knock~
His eyes cracked open. A long breath pushed out of him, half sigh, half yawn. He rolled onto his side, then sat up slow, elbows on his knees, gaze fixed on the door across the room.
'What time is it…?'
He reached over, dragging his phone from the dresser. The glow lit his face for a moment: 7:38 PM.
The screen dimmed again as his head turned toward the bed.
Trixie was sprawled on her stomach, bare back rising with slow breaths, black-and-pink panties riding low on her hips.
The rest of her was uncovered—shirt abandoned somewhere, hair splayed across the pillow.
Don's lips tugged faintly. He lifted a hand, leaned closer, and smacked her ass with a lazy flick. smack~
Her body shifted with the contact, a muffled groan slipping out. She pushed up onto her elbows, hair falling over her face as her tail gave a half-hearted curl.
