Saturday's were our day for morning sex.
There were no alarms. No schedules. No reason to get up. We would just lay there watching the curtains dance to the rhythm of the breeze flowing through the window until one of us woke up enough to start kissing the other one's body. But that day, when I rolled over, there was an empty spot on the white sheet where Morgan should have been.
I ran my hand over the spot. It was still warm and I knew that there was a good chance that she hadn't left the house yet. I jumped up and ran out of the bedroom and into the hallway, hearing the sound of water running in the bathroom. I opened the door to find Morgan, completely naked, except for the long pink socks, and her long, blonde, hair flowing over her shoulders as she brushed her teeth in front of the sink.
"Hey," I said, greeting her reflection in the mirror with a giant smile.
"Good Morning," she mumbled back, through lips covered in bubbles and a toothbrush which filled one half of her mouth.
"Where are you off to in such a hurry?" I asked, sliding up behind her and resting my hands on her hips.
She spit into the sink and cupped her hand, catching water to rinse her mouth. "Remember I told you that mom and I are going to the farmer's market this morning, and then we are going to hit up a few yard sales? I'm sure we will be back around mid-afternoon."
I hated to admit it but I lived for morning-sex days. They were lazy, and happy, and they made me feel free. There was always a lot of licking, sucking, and fucking; then we would just lay there drained, staring at the ceiling and communicating through moans and groans before starting all over again. They were hopeful days that felt like they would never end.
"And you were just gonna run off without even saying goodbye?" I teased, dropping my hand between her knees and running it up the back of her thighs.
"I know," she shrugged, moaning with pleasure as my fingers tickled her slit. "But I was already running a little behind schedule, and you know how mom is about punctuality."
I felt the wetness as I ran my fingers over her cute little cunt. "Well, it's a good thing I caught you before you got too far," I said, slipping two fingers inside of her.
Her moaning sounded annoyed, as my fingers split her slick lips, and her pussy became flooded with moisture. It was as if she wanted to enjoy my touch but she couldn't. It was obvious that her mind was somewhere other than the bathroom we were both standing in at that moment. She arched her back inviting me in, but at the same time I saw her eyes doing a half-roll in her reflection in the mirror.
I had to admit that I had been spoiled by Morgan up until that point. She was always so quick to drop whatever she was doing and let me jam my cock, fingers, or tongue into any of her three holes. I think sometimes I even took for granted how lucky I was to have someone as amazing as her, but the whole eye roll thing was just too much.
I pulled my hand back, stomped out of the room, and slammed the door hard enough to rattle pictures in the hallway. Then I stomped to the bedroom and climbed back into bed. My subconscious must have expected that those tiny tantrums would set off alarms in Morgan's head and she would come running back to me, panicking, and begging for forgiveness.
But she didn't.
Instead, I heard the water turn on for her shower. Was she really just going to go about her business without even making sure I was okay? I was pissed. My heart felt like dead weight in my chest and a fire rose up from my stomach burning its way into my neck and face.
I sometimes forgot how stubborn Morgan could be when she needed to; and how it was one of the first things I loved about her. That look she got in her eyes; like lightning when the sun was still shining. The fact that she didn't tolerate our parents' bullshit and stood up to them in her own little passive-aggressive way was a major turn on for me right from the start.
And right then, as I laid there sniffing my fingers, with my other hand shoved down my boxers, it occurred to me that something about our current situation was wrong. Morgan had always been defiant of our parents, especially our holier-than-thou mother, but her whole excuse for ignoring me that morning was that she couldn't be late because of how our mom felt about punctuality. It felt like a contradiction, like she was gaslighting me, and I knew I had to get to the bottom of it.
I punched her pillow as hard as I could, then reached for my phone. I went through my contacts until I found our sister Tracy's name, then I shot her a text: WYD
The second red flag was when the water in the shower turned off after Morgan had only been in there for a few minutes. That wasn't at all normal for her. Some days she would stand in there forever letting the water bounce off of her shoulders and splash over her perky, little tits; she loved scorching hot showers that basically peeled the paint right off the walls and lasted until she literally couldn't stand them anymore.
When I heard her walking towards the bedroom, I put my phone back on the nightstand, and rolled over, pretending to be asleep. I laid there like a fetus, still under the delusion that Morgan felt bad and was going to come over to me and make it all better. I imagined that she would crawl into bed and kiss my shoulder, when I ignored her she would yank on it until I turned over to face her, and then we would kiss and make our own twisted version of love.
Instead, the hangers rattled as she grabbed clothes from her side of the closet. The room was quiet for a moment before I heard fumbling in her underwear drawer. Then, after a moment of listening to her stumbling around the room like a drunk person trying to be subtle, the bedroom door opened, then closed, and she was gone.
No kisses. No apology. No fucking.
