100 Days of Happiness by Kristy Berridge

Author:Kristy Berridge [Kristy Berridge]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: -
Publisher: -
Published: 2016-07-14T00:00:00+00:00

’d had worse Sunday mornings. Today I woke up in the arms of a man who looked at me like I’d somehow hung the moon; a goofy grin was set upon his pale face as he hugged me tight and whispered all sorts of sweet nothings in my ear.

I didn’t complain. I’d never get sick of hearing how gorgeous I am, how perfect my body appeared or even how cute my bed hair looked—yet despite incessant compliments—I still was at a loss as to what to do with the sexless Leprechaun. We indulged in continuous lip action until the wee hours, but my knickers were still firmly elasticised to my sweet spot.

No sex. I didn’t remember taking a vow of celibacy. I had no understanding of his need to take things moronically slow.

We emerged from bed around nine, ruffled and desperately in need of satiation. We kissed and parted ways; he had a dog at home desperate for food and I had plans to punish my body with a run and that was exactly what I did. I spent two hours running a lengthy trail to expend the pent up energy, but the calorie burn was quickly negated. I ended up at The Parent’s place, raided their fridge and tucked into The Mother’s baked goods. I swallowed advice dished on The Irishman, too—a result of my tired looking eyes.

The Father—as always—kept his lips tightly sealed, mostly because he never got a word in edgewise. I could have sworn he was secretly pleased with my movements despite gallivanting around town with my skirt over-head. I was living life, something I’d failed miserably in the past to negotiate.

After eating everything in sight, I headed home for a nap—not something I made a habit of. I often made fun of people who needed geriatric naps, but since I’d had about three hours sleep since Friday, I was running on empty. I remember face-planting the couch an hour later and not emerging until I was swimming in a puddle of my own drool.

The rest of the afternoon played out dully compared to dry-humping and market stall hunting. I watched television and then dragged my ass to bed again around ten. I was all round spectacularly content with the weekend despite being physically wasted and horny as hell. It didn’t matter that trying to navigate a dud vibrator in desperate need of battery replacement turned into far too much work before bed.

I was too tired to care.

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