The alarm went off at five o’clock sharp. Peter stretched his sheet-wrinkled arm across the short expanse of the twin bed, only to find that his mate had already risen. He didn’t know how she did it. She was always up just as late waiting up for him but somehow managed to get up a half hour earlier without using the alarm to wake her.

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Peter swung around to the edge of the bed and put his bare feet on the wooden floor. “ What the fu@k! “ The floor was freezing. He wrapped himself in the sheet and blanket from the bed and walked toward the bathroom where he heard the shower running.

As Peter opened the door to the bathroom steam poured out around his wild bed-head hairdo.
“How’s my little macadamia nut this morning?” Peter tried to sound as awake and fresh as possible despite the fact that he actually had a slight headache and his mouth felt like it was coated with wallpaper glue.

He quickly gargled with the blue mouthwash, the generic brand, Fiona said it was just as good as the other one, at one third the price. At this point it could have been Aqua-Velva, his mouth tasted like shit.

Peter pulled open the shower curtain slightly and slipped inside behind Fiona. Shampoo in her hair and now rinsing it off, Peter entered at the perfect time. Just as Fiona finished her rinse and reached for the conditioner, Peter grabbed her from behind.

In a flash, Peter had Fiona’s elbow lodged in his solar plexus. The wind gone from his lungs, he squatted down and tried to regain his breath.

“Oh my god! Honey, I am so sorry, I didn’t know you were there.” She bent down and wiped Peter’s hair from his face.

He looked up at her and gave her a big goofy smile. “I guess those kickboxing classes are really helping.” He said as he stood. The air flowed freely again. “Maybe next time I’ll bang pots and pans together for a while before I get in the shower with you.” Peter rubbed his now sore spot.

“Awe, let me make it better for you sweetie.” Fiona began to kiss Peter’s strong solid chest.
His body was sculpted so well, she imagined him, her statue. Something only an artist could create, for all of god’s creatures had flaws.

“Hey, why was the window open? It’s fu@king freezing in the apartment.”

Fiona stopped kissing Peter long enough to give him an answer. “Well, last night you were complaining how I always keep the place so hot and I just figured…”

Peter got her meaning and gave her a sly knowing look then proceeded to guide Fiona’s head toward his now thick, pulsating member.

Peter got dressed in record time. He closed the window, after he got out of the shower. So the room was still really cold.

He had turned on the radio while making his morning espresso, his morning libation, and had heard that a cold front had blown in from Canada and it was going to be cold for the rest of the week.

“No shit, it’s late November; it’s probably going to be cold for the next three months. What a racket those weather guys got.” He thought and listened to the rest of the report. ‘The current temperature was now twenty-two degrees and it was supposed to get colder before it got warmer.”

Peter pulled his double-knit sweatshirt over the sweatshirt he was already wearing. Downed the remaining espresso, took a hit on a roach he had in his pocket from the night before. Slipped into his black steel-toed combat boots, threw on his black biker leather and zipped up tight.

He checked in on Fiona before he split. She was in the middle of masking or toning, or something when Peter stuck his head in. “Bundle up today Sweetie, it’s cold as a bitch out there.”

Fiona never understood Peter’s aggression about the cold, he grew up here. As for herself she loved the cold, never experiencing it as a child, she found it exhilarating, plus it helped to keep the pores tight.

“Okay honey.” She turned with a smile, still naked, standing in front of the full-length mirror in the steamy room. Peter got a big wet kiss and helped himself to a handful of backside before slipping back out. He wiped the sweet smelling cream left from Fiona’s kiss from his face. He checked, nope not cocoa butter.

He put on his black wool cap, pulled it down over his ears, slipped on his sleek black sunglasses, checked his reflection once, adjusted his hat, grabbed his backpack and left for work.

It was now five minutes to six. Peter had to be at check-in at seven. He worked at the fourteenth street generating station for Con Erickson; the city’s producer of electricity.

Although he only lived on the third floor, he waited the three or four minutes for the elevator. Peter enjoyed all the luxuries that came along with living in a luxury building. The sun deck on the roof, the doorman service, and especially the elevator. Most of Peter’s other girlfriends had lived in basements or in walk-ups.

Peter also enjoyed the synchronicity of the city. He would see the same people at the same time in the same place almost every day.

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