Page 66 of CowSex

I shouldn’t be left alone with my own thoughts at moments like this, not that I’ve ever really had a moment like this in my life before.

What if when we start going at it, I’m still so wet for him that it sounds all squelchy?

What if we start making that wet fish slapping together sound, or worse still, I let off a fanny fart, a vart?

Oh my God, I’ll die. I’ll be on the first flight back to England if that happens.

I stick my head out of the bedroom door and check the landing, there’s no sign of Koa, so I quickly run down the stairs and grab my phone and head back to the bedroom. I fully expect him to be back and am already thinking of elaborate excuses to explain to him why I need my phone. I could just be up front and tell him that I need to set up a new playlist called “Music to Drown Out the Sound of Gracie’s Wet Fanny and Shag Unembarrassed To.’

I go into the bathroom and turn on my UE Boom, scroll through Spotify, and find a playlist called “Sexy Fuck Music.” I press play, set the volume so that it’s loud enough to hide any sloppy noises, and, because I’m in the bathroom, decide to quickly shower from the waist down.

I then decide that perhaps fucking in the shower would be a much better option altogether. I leave the door to the bathroom open wide, turn up the music a little louder, just to be sure that Koa knows where I am, and after putting my hair up, I step under the water.

I take my time lathering up and wash thoroughly, regularly checking around the shower curtain, but by the time I’m finished, there’s still no sign of Koa.

After moisturising from neck to toes, I step out of the bathroom with just a towel wrapped around me, carrying my speaker.

Still no Koa.

I’m not sure what to do.

I put the speaker down on the bedside table and climb into bed. Koa’s bedroom is at the front of the house, mine at the back, but he’s been gone for over fifteen minutes.

Should I go to his bedroom and check to see if he’s okay? What if he’s had second thoughts and changed his mind?

I get out of bed and pull on my robe and stick my head out the bedroom door again. Nothing.

“Koa,” I call out.

Still nothing.

I hear a banging noise and head towards his bedroom. I’ve never been in here, and I’m not sure if I’m supposed to be here now. Tentatively, I push the door open.

“Koa, you in here?”

Zero. Not a sound.

He also has an en-suite, and just in case he’s decided to shower and moisturise, too, I check in there.

Zilch.

I return to his bedroom and spot his open wallet lying on the bed. He’s obviously been here. I wonder if he’s gone out to try to buy condoms, surely he would’ve told me? Plus, his wallet is still here.

I hear the banging noise again, but this time it sounds like it’s coming from the other end of the house.

I check the driveway through the window, just to be sure Koa hasn’t left, as I’m starting to freak the fuck out.

His truck is exactly where he parked it earlier.

I make my way to the hallway and call his name again.

“If you’re trying to scare me, Cowboy, it’s working. Stop fucking about.”

I hear what sounds like a door being rattled, and then from a distance, the sound of Koa’s voice calling me.

Dashing down the stairs, I can clearly see the outline of a person through the stained glass in the front door.

“Open the fucking door, Gracie.”