Bette’s breathing was deep and steady, her other arm was stretched out under Tina’s neck and her body remained languid and relaxed on the bed, lost in the kind of sleep that could only be brought on by hours of earth-shattering sex.   Tina gently traced the slight curve of the collarbone with a fingertip, observing the gentle rise and fall of Bette’s chest that indicated the brunette was lost in dreamland, far away from the waking world.   I wonder what she’s dreaming about right now? Is she dreaming of me? Of our family?

Her bladder called again, more insistent this time. With another sigh, Tina slowly untangled her legs from Bette’s and then rolled slowly away from the warmth of their embrace with one last kiss on the silky-smooth skin of a rounded shoulder.

She pressed her thighs together as she wobbled towards the bathroom in a futile effort to try to keep pee that was threatening to escape now that she was awake and moving about. ”Oops!” she thought to herself as a few drops escaped from her squeeze and rolled down her thigh. Trying to keep the drops from reaching the floor, she crab-walked hurriedly into the bathroom and then yanked the separate door to the toilet open. She sat down heavily and allowed the dam to finally break.

Still groggy afterwards, she washed her hands over the mod sink, muttering under her breath to chastise herself over nearly finishing off the whole bottle of that “So, Jennie!” drink that Peter had someone fetch from the kitchen. She lathered a face towel with soap and water then wiped her legs where the pee had trickled down. Oh well. A pregnant woman’s allowed these kinds of accidents, right?

She straightened up to face the mirror, and when her eyes could focus on her image she almost did a double-take when she saw a big ’ol hickey on her neck. She quickly inspected her shoulders, collarbone, all over her neck, and spotted a few other marks.

She smiled, remembering the passionate remainder of their night last night, thinking back to how it had gone after everyone had stumbled back to their rooms following the relaxing wind-down by the fireplace in the cavernous living room of Peter’s elegant equestrian retreat.  To make sure she stayed sober and alert, Bette had consumed a few glasses of wine, not nearly as much as the rest of their friends, who’d happily finished off all the bottles of wine Peter had offered.