15.
The early morning sun streaming through the slatted window coverings tugged at Michael's eyelids. The pattern they made on his face annoyed him as he tried to find a comfortable position to fall back to sleep. Eventually, he gave up, turned onto his back and irritatedly rubbed the night away from his eyes. He felt his chin then decided he didn't have enough stubble to shave. He only shaved once a week at most and there was no sign it was needed yet. He was generally hairless which Elizabeth had always said she liked. The idle thought that Joseph had little body hair as well came to him and that brought back his memory of the long and confusing night just passed.
He stretched, then pressed his fingers into his forehead and temples, willing away both the memories of the night and the hangover he was feeling. He shook his head thinking how stupid he had been and how tossing Elizabeth's soiled panties to the African in a moment of panic had led to his sleeping on the sofa in the lounge instead of with his wife. The pounding in his head seemed almost audible, then he realized that there was actual pounding. Someone was in fact knocking loudly down at the front door to their flat.
He tugged on the dress trousers casually thrown over a chair last night and, deciding to forego shoes or socks, he padded down the long stairs. He fumbled with the lever style door handle. Brushing his hair back, he pulled open the heavy wooden door. His jaw dropped with surprise and a frown creased his brow. To his very great surprise, he saw the tall broad frame of their host of the previous evening, thankfully blocking most of the sunlight from Michael's pained eyes. Awkwardly, he offered, "Joseph, what's going on? I mean, why are you here? What time is it anyway"
Joseph's wide friendly smile revealed his dazzling white teeth and his flashing bright eyes. "So many questions, friend Michael. It is eight in the morning and I am here to fetch your charming wife for our morning run. We did this often while you were away in Lagos. Is she not ready? It looks as if I awakened you."
Michael ran his fingers through his shaggy mane and looked at the silhouetted form of the huge man, resplendent in silky running togs. "No, that's ok. Umm . . . wait here and I will see if she's up for a run. Last night was a late night."
Reconsidering the idea of leaving their generous host cooling his heels in the tiny entry, Michael said instead, "Look, why don't you come on up and wait in the lounge."
Joseph bounded up the wooden stairs then turned into the lounge as though he knew the layout of the flat. Michael plodded up the stairs behind him at a much slower pace and arrived at the top of the stairs to see Joseph standing hands on hips surveying the scene in the lounge. It was obvious to anyone that the married couple had slept apart the previous night, and Michael did not see the secret smile of satisfaction on the big African's broad lips. Joseph was exceedingly pleased that 'his' Elizabeth had not shared a bed with her husband last night.
Michael cleared his throat, then asked whether Joseph would like anything to drink. When the prince declined, Michael crooked his thumb, pointed back over his shoulder and said, "Well, let me see if Elizabeth is up for a run, or awake anyway."
Michael rapped timidly at the door, while Joseph, looking at the messy lounge looked for a place to sit, perched regally on the chair in front of the computer.
He heard Elizabeth mumble in a gravelly voice, "Michael, go away. Leave me alone you worm! What the hell do you want?"
Michael felt little tears gathering at his eyes and his chin trembled, reflecting his sadness and remorse. He considered his reply. "Elizabeth, your . . . Umm, your running partner is here. Joseph I mean. He wants to know if you want to go with him -- go running I mean. Shall I tell him no?"
An uncomfortable silence of several seconds ensued. She replied a less harsh voice, "Tell him to go away. Tell him I don't want to see him. Tell him . . . No wait. Hold on, I'll tell him myself."
Several awkward seconds passed, then the heavy door to their bed chamber creaked open. Elizabeth stood in the doorway in cotton bikini cut panties and one of Michael's old undershirts, hastily pulled over her head.
She stopped short as soon as she saw Joseph, his imposing form dominating their lounge. Words suddenly failed her, as she shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other. She had wanted to tell him that it was over, that she didn't want a relationship of any kind with him, but the sudden sight of his sculpted form stopped her short. She was suddenly breathing more heavily and her body betrayed her. She could feel that her nipples were stiffening and pushing against the thin material of the undershirt. Her stomach tightened as well, knotted in tension mixed with a sudden tinge of desire.
Elizabeth frowned, confused by her mixed feelings. Her head was telling her to extricate herself from what had become a horribly uncomfortable situation, one she wanted her husband to have no knowledge of. Her body on the other hand was signalling all the telltale signs of desire. Her pussy tightened and throbbed once which made her close her eyes to shut out the feelings that were overcoming her. She unconsciously crossed her hands, covering her pubic region, hiding the dark thatch of her pubic hair whose outline had been clearly visible a second before.
What was wrong with her she wondered. She had only been with the Joseph a couple times. How could she be feeling the same things she had felt many years before when Michael was courting her as a young woman? She suddenly understood this wasn't going to be easy. Her stomach was doing flip flops and it was hard to swallow. She knew she had to talk to Joseph, and although she felt like hell this morning, she held up a hand and said, "Your Highness, wait. Just give me ten minutes to get ready, OK? I'd like to run with you."
