Most of the morning sunlight was spent by the time the first cup of coffee was poured. Jeremy stretched his arms, grabbed air as he opened and closed his fists. A long, wide yawn engulfed his face. He had been up most of the night reading and generally considered dawn more the beginning of sundown than the start of a new day.
George The Cat picked a delicate path from one corner of the kitchen table to the other. No one tsk-tsked him away.
Lori leaned across the table toward Jeremy and placed a plate of steaming hot pancakes in front of him. As she rose slightly from her chair, his eyes drifted up toward her cleavage. She wore the sheerest gossamer top beneath which her nipples stood upright and firm in the chill late-morning air. She sat next to her boy friend, Murry, who had nailed her twice last night.
“Mmmmmm. Those look good enough to eat,” Jeremy said.
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“Eyes off mah woman,” Murry responded in mock anger. His mouth was full and a few pancake crumbs flew from his lips as he made a mad slap at Jeremy’s knuckles with his fork.
Mike, another roommate, groggily ambled into the room wearing just a pair of pajama bottoms. Silently, he filled a cup from an urn on the counter as Cathy followed. She, too, plucked a mug from the shelf, held it out to Mike for filling. She wore Mike’s matching pajama top and nothing else.
