Page 41 of Marc

MARC

Sharinga bed with Staci is a dream come true, but I’ll never admit that out loud.

I tried to stay still and stick to my half of the bed, but once she fell asleep, she rolled over and pulled on my arm until I scooted closer to her in the middle of the king-sized bed.

She pressed her chest against my arm and wrapped her leg over mine.

The small sigh that came from her when she was wrapped all around me left my dick begging for attention.

But last night wasn’t about physical touch.

I would do anything to make Staci feel safe and protected, especially after the encounter with her ex-husband.

She was able to sleep soundly without any nightmares, so maybe coming here was one of my better ideas.

Staci pulls the cover over her head and stretchesout her arms and legs. She almost grazes my morning wood with her leg.

She rolls over to face me. Her bright eyes bring a smile to my face.

“I don’t want to get out of bed. I know I need to because I am starving, but this bed is really nice and last night was probably the best night's sleep I’ve had in forever.”

I don’t want her getting out of bed either, but that’s for my own selfish reasons. But her confession about it being the best night's sleep boosts my ego a little.

“How about I order us some breakfast and we wait until after we’ve eaten to get out of bed?”

She sits up, crosses her legs, and says, “That sounds perfect. Like a dream come true. I love having breakfast in bed. In the meantime, I’ll find something for us to watch on the television.”

Turning on the television, she flips through the channels while I look at the breakfast menu.

I nudge her arm with my elbow. “Do you like pancakes or waffles more?”

She slowly turns towards me. “Uh, both. They are practically the same thing.”

I narrow my eyes at her.

Her eyes widen as confusion sets in. “What’s that look for?”

“Pancakes and waffles are not the same thing.”

That’s like saying chocolate and vanilla are the same and we all know that they aren’t.

She tilts her head towards me and shrugs her right shoulder. “Practically.”

I give her a pointed look and wait for her to explain her reasoning.

“Sure, they are different shapes, but waffles are just pancakes that go to the gym and workout.”

It takes a few moments to understand the analogy she just used.

A smile forms on my face and I let out a loud laugh as I imagine a pancake working out to bulk up and become a waffle.

When I stop laughing, I say, “They are totally different. One uses oil and the other one doesn’t.”

“But you oil the pan, so technically, they both use oil.”

She does have a point, albeit wrong, but I don’t want to spend the morning debating pancakes and waffles.

“Well, which one would you prefer to eat this morning?”

---