I feel something warm around my partially erect cock. It’s the first feeling as my body slowly reboots from a deep restful sleep with Laura by my side. Flexing my arm, I realize Laura is no longer there. Hm?

The room is permeated by muted wet noises originating from under the sheets. I look down at them and notice the shape of a head bobbing up and down right about where my prick is. Well, looks like I found Laura.

Upon lifting the sheet, I see exactly what’s going on in the unknowable void between the bed and its coverings. A familiar blonde is down there giving me a slow, affectionate blowjob. There are definitely worse ways to be woken up. The moment that I lift the sheets she locks eyes with me.

In her eyes… it’s there again. The same thing that was there yesterday. Her eyes are locked onto my face, and she stares at me so deeply it feels like she’s looking deeper into me than even I know. That thing in her eyes, it’s affection, right? Yeah, affection. That has to be it. She’s affectionately giving me a good morning blowjob, and I’m having trouble imagining how life could get better than this.

It’s not long before I cum into her mouth. She leans back, swallows, and opens her mouth, revealing that there’s nothing left.

I affectionately cup her cheek, “Good girl.”

Wordlessly, she leans deeper into my hand.

The clock on her bedside table reads 7:00. Today really feels like a weekend, so the only thing I can do is groan when I remember it’s Wednesday. Damn it.

Laura sits up, looking proud of herself, “Was I good?” She says, with a proud look on her face. She knows that she was amazing, she just wants to hear me say it.

Well, she absolutely deserves it after that performance. “You were great Laura. I’d love to wake up to that every day.”

“You can if you stay here with me.”

“You mean like… live here?”

“Absolutely.”

I scratch the back of my neck. That’s a little quick, isn’t it? Waking up like this every day sounds amazing, but I’m still a student. I could do it after I graduate, but do I want to move out so soon?

I awkwardly laugh, “We’ll see about that when I graduate.”

Her eyes bulge for a moment, “Oh my lord, I completely forgot that you’re a student. You seem so much older than that.” 

“I get that a lot.”

I’ve been tall since I was a kid, and people have always treated me as older than I really am because of that.

She gives me a flirty smile, stands up, and continues “I need a shower after last night.”

“Oooh, can I join?”

She blushes, “My shower’s a little bit small… We can try to fit 2 people if you’d like… but...”

“Never mind then, it’s fine. I’ll take one after you.”

We begin to get ready for the day, we both have school to attend today. Her as a teacher, and me as a student. We’re going to need to be careful about our relationship from now on.

As we both get dressed in her room, she says, “I’ll make breakfast, how do you like your eggs?”

“Over-easy, I guess?”

She nods and leaves the room. I’m now alone in her bedroom.

Getting ready for the day beside a beauty is surprisingly comforting. What a great way to spend the morning.

I dress and am about to leave the room when I feel something off. I slap my pocket and realize my wallet is missing. It must’ve fallen somewhere during my frantic stripping last night. 

I begin to search the room. I find it on the floor, when I stand up, I see a framed picture, turned face down, that I hadn’t seen the night before. It’s a picture of Laura and Karlsson. They’re sat next to each other, with his arm wrapped around her. I’m a little confused by the picture. There’s no way she got Karlsson to take a picture like this. It would be damning evidence of an affair, and there’s no way he would let something like that come into existence.

Regardless, I swing open the frame and pull the picture out. There’s no way I can leave this here when even mentions of Karlsson cause her so much distress. Also, I’m a bit uncomfortable with her having memorabilia of her ex. So what if I’m a tiny bit insecure? Sue me.

 As I pull it out of the frame, another picture slides out and falls to the floor face down. The edges are worn, and the paper it’s printed on has begun to yellow in places.

I pick it up and flip it over.

The picture’s dark, and the lighting of the photo makes it hard to see its contents.

I hold the photo closer to the light, and I begin to piece together exactly what I’m looking at. The picture is of Karlsson, sleeping in bed next to a woman. The POV of the picture makes it obvious that whoever took the picture was lying in bed with him. The last thing I notice is Laura's fingers intertwined with Karlsson’s before the very same woman calls out, interrupting my thoughts.

“My love~ breakfast’s ready~!” she calls from the kitchen in a sing-songy voice.

“Uh… one moment!” I shakily call back.

I reassemble the pictures so that it doesn’t look like I touched them and head towards her voice. There’s a part of me that wants to bolt, but a bigger part of me wants to believe that there’s a good explanation for what I just saw.

Her kitchen is small, but it’s also quite comfortable, much like the rest of her apartment. She’s wearing a cute, frilly apron on top of her work clothes, and I can’t help but admire how cute it makes her look. 

Seeing her like this, it’s hard to see her as even remotely threatening. That picture has to have a good explanation.

She assembles 2 plates with toast, eggs, and a few slices of bacon, and we begin to eat.

I carefully examine her as we eat. The beautiful, sweet woman across from me seems so at odds with the picture I’d just seen. Why does she have creepy stalker pictures of Karlsson? Maybe she just… didn’t know it was in the frame?

I can’t imagine that I’m going to get answers from anyone but her, so I resolve to ask about it.

“Hey, Laura?”

“Did I overcook the eggs?”

“No. I… uh… saw something in your room.”

“Oh?”

“It was a picture of Mr. Karlsson. The contents were...”

Upon hearing this, she leaps out of her chair, sending it back onto the floor. She dashes out of the kitchen towards her bedroom. I’m momentarily shocked, but follow her after a moment. There goes our nice, lazy morning.

I enter her bedroom just in time to see her lob the picture frame out of a window, down several stories.

She turns around to face me, her face once again streaking tears, “I swear that I just forgot that I still had that picture! I don’t want him, I only want you! I’m sorry, I’m sorry...” She has degraded to sobbing uncontrollably once again.

“We’re doing this again? I already told you, I don't care that you've had a partner before. It's fine.”

“But it’s not fine! There should only be one living man who knows my body, and it should be you! Karlsson tricked me! He made me think he was my love, but it was you the whole time!  Now I’m ruined for you!”

“I don’t care about your past with Karlsson. You’re not ruined, you’re perfect.” I scoop her up into an embrace, “he can go die for all I care.”

She stiffens in my embrace like she just realized something.

After a few moments, she pulls out of the embrace, and says, “Thank you, Sam. I don’t know what came over me.”

Me calming down a crying Laura is becoming a more frequent occurrence than I would like. We’re going to need to work on this later.

Suddenly, I realize something important, “Shit, the time!”

The clock reads 7:50. Classes begin at 8:00. The rest of our now ruined comfy morning is spent frantically finishing plates of food and getting to school. The stalker picture and its contents drift back into the recesses of my mind, completely forgotten.