Stockholm Story, part 3
Azem tried to be a gentleman, but he failed in the middle.
I woke up on my stomach, hugging a pillow instead of my lover. The air-conditioning system's effort smooched my naked ass. Sheesh, too cold. I was just about to open my eyes and automatically cover my flesh with a quilt, when a fundamental issue emerged in my mind. "Why was I ever mooning?" The next question was only the consequence of the first one, as the slowly appearing sparkles of consciousness informed me about my n...