Dabei war es Sonntag und als Nichtkirchgänger hätte er eigentlich lange schlafen können. Er erhob sich, fuhr sich mit der Hand durch die verwuschel...en blonden Haare und begab sich in seine Küche. Kaffee! Als er den Becher geleert hatte, machte er sich auf den Weg in den Waschraum im Keller des Mietshauses, um seine Schmutzwäsche in die Waschmaschine zu befördern. Angezogen war er nur mit einem Paar schwarzer Boxershorts.Zu dieser frühen Uhrzeit würde er ohnehin allein im Keller sein, also wozu. She showered quickly, but washed her long blonde hair with care. She was tall and the twin suns had touched her skin lightly. One of the few perks of working outdoors, she had thought. The warm water that hit her would be Tate’s final comfort of the day, her morning companion. Everything after this was uphill, but the challenge was welcome and renewed her conviction daily. She slipped into her work issued Skin Suit and tied her hair back tight behind her head without a thought before grabbing. The smell of pussy reminded me of Ellise. I'd hoped all day that Ellise would return. I hadn't understood one word she'd said before leaving the beach. I'd hoped she was telling me she'd return today. But she'd never shown up. The kiss we'd had in the sea yesterday was my first, real girl/girl kiss that promised so many other firsts I'd wanted to share with her. But, Ellise was probably back in Denmark by now. On the spur of the moment I decided to add another first without Ellise. Pushing. And just at beginning dusk we reach the guest-house. It is one large house that seems to be a restaurant and 16 little wooden log cabins for the guests. Frozen all over we enter the restaurant. At the counter I find a friendly looking chubby woman of about 45 years. She introduces herself as Nilla (short for Pernilla) and asks in Swedish for our wishes. Per answers also Swedish: „We need a warm meal, a hot drink and a warm place to spend the night. I hope you have all this. “Nilla smiles a.