Almost...

The cuddling lasts for some time, longer than either intended, but like any good cuddle eventually, somebody has to get up and pee.

Both visit a washroom, Layla the downstairs and Ethan the up, relieving and cleaning themselves. While washing cum off of himself was not new, it being somebodys else was a first for Ethan. Plus, there was just so much of it. Even the biggest load he’s ever had, which he vaguely remembers marveling at once, was maybe two thirds the size of Layla’s at best. Returning to the living room, he still hears the downstairs sink running, beating Layla back.

Looking around, he spots his boxers, slipping them on. He’d just spent a decent amount of time cuddling the woman fully naked, but only now did he feel the need to cover himself.

The sink stops and a moment later Layla’s footsteps close in, the buxom blonde rounding the corner into the living room. She’s still naked, and Ethan’s eyes shift between her exposed chest and swaying manhood, which is still large despite being soft. {if Gay >2}Ethan stares at it, wondering…{endif}

“Ethan, do you see my underwear?” Layla is looking around, bending over to scoop up her bra.

“Uh,” Ethan looks around, “Under your dress.”

“Ah.” Layla picks up the dress and tosses it over her shoulder, then scoops up the panties underneath. “Thank you.”

“No problem…” Ethan frowns slightly, watching her slip into her panties and then get her bra on. Honestly, looking at her in her underwear is pretty good, it’s just once that dress goes back on he knows his view will be ruined.

“Careful,” Layla smiles, her voice teasing, “Keep looking at me like that and I might ask for another round.”

Breathing in slightly, Ethan actually likes the sound of that. He’s had time to recharge, and can definitely get the engine running. “Well, if you want to…”

“I do, truly but…” she shrugs, “Not tonight.”

“Early morning?” Ethan frowns, watching her slip on that stupid fucking dress.

“Something like that.” She flattens it out and adjusts her hair, looking mostly presentable. “Ethan. It would be awful for a woman my age to monopolize your time, but would you like to…” she clicks her tongue, searching for the next word. “Do this again?”

“Oh. Definitely.” Ethan nods a little too eagerly

“Hmmm. Perfect,” scooping up her whisky bottle, Layla heads towards the door, then reaches down and picks up her shoes. “I need to run, I’ll call on you soon. Bye!”

“Bye…” Ethan watches her go, the woman zipping out the door. Her leaving felt slightly abrupt, Ethan left standing there in his boxers, his dick a bit over half-masted. Ethan muses she might have left so fast to avoid the temptation of round two.

He was right, but he’d never confirm that.