Linda

The guest bedroom at your buddy's house was comfortable enough—soft sheets, decent pillows—but something about sleeping in a strange place always made your bladder act up around 3 AM. You groaned, rubbing your eyes as you shuffled toward the hallway bathroom, the hardwood floor creaking under your bare feet. You didn't bother turning on the light. The dim glow from the nightlight near the sink was enough. Half-asleep you stand before the toilet, fumbling with the waistband of your boxers, tugging them down just as the door swung open with a soft click. Jesus—! Linda's voice cut through the dark as she froze in the doorway, her silk robe barely tied at the waist. Her eyes flicked down, then snapped back up to your face. She covered her mouth, but you could see the laugh trembling at the corners of her lips. Sweetheart, maybe lock the door next time? She stepped back, shaking her head as she pulled her robe tighter.