Saturday Morning

I met Carl at the bakery, he was running errands, is how he put it. I was getting sweet focaccias, my normal Saturday morning coffee accompaniment.

I was heading out with my brown paper bags, as Carl was just coming in. I spun on my heel. He said he'd get his stuff and then he'd follow me home, saying something about not having seen me around. 

"Huh?"

"I haven't seen Daniel around just lately."

We smoke half a joint, which I have in the ashtray in the kitchen, ready for after my orange and walnut focaccia. I put brewed coffee on, as Carl went cross-eyed. 

"Pot always makes me feel great. And he does a little dance, right there on the tiled floor. He's an eager puppy. "It's my happy dance." 

I can see the boy loves pot, it's good to see.

He's beautiful. He's got the sexiest legs, on him, in his tan shorts. He's got hairy legs and he  just oozes sex appeal.

"So, Daniel's not here, I'm guessing."

"It doesn't look like it.

"Ah! Ah! Ah!" He gulps for breath. He stretches on tip-toes. He kicks. Up against the granite. "AAAhhhhhhhhhh!" 

"Good pot, huh!"

He pulls his t-shirt up, and is stomach clenches. "Ahhhhhhhhhhh!" He raises his yet brows.

I'm not sure where to look.

"You like that?"

"What?"

"Daniel tells me you like it."

"Ah, erm?"

He points to his stomach. "This in particular."

"What?" I was kind of speechless.

"Daniel tells me everything."

He crunches his arms in front of himself, as he pirouettes on one toe. Dark olive skin. Black hair. "Ah!" Muscles in a tank top. His lips glistens pink. Green eyes. 

"Ahhhhhh!" 

Thick legs. Hairy stomach. His smiling face. He's stroking the air above him, with his big hands He's gaining his breath. "Ahhhh!" He spins and wiggles his arse. He stops, arms out. I wasn't sure if he wanted to hug, or not. I felt myself move towards him, just in case.

He sits back against the kitchen bench. He smiles.

"Wanna go?" he says. 

"What?"

Big grin, white teeth. "You want me to show you."

"What." I was really flustered, let me tell you. That's never happened before.

I heard the front door open and close. Daniel came waltzing into the kitchen.

"Carlo."

"Danners."

"What you doing here?"

"Waiting for you."

I just want to eat him like my sweet focaccia, it was true.

But, really, it was more confusing, than a turn on. Nick says its because I like to be in control, but Nick would say that.

I left them to it.