you make breakfast.

Sunlight streams through the window. You squint in the glare. You roll over looking at Alex. He snorts quietly and shifts, before settling. You consider curling up against him, pressing your soft flesh against his warm skin and drifting back to sleep. You also consider waking him and having him fuck your brains out. Or you could surprise him with a real treat. You decide to make breakfast for him.

You carefully peel the sheet back, gingerly hopping out of the bed. You pick up the t-shirt you wore yesterday morning and tiptoe out the room before putting it on, covering your naked body.

Quietly you pad into the kitchen. You search through he fridge and pantry, gathering ingredients. You place them on the bench, careful not to make unnecessary noise.

You find cream mixed berries, syrup, flour, eggs, milk, sugar and a can of whipped cream. On the bench is a bowl of fresh fruit. You can make pancakes. The only question now is do you make naughty or nice pancakes?