PHANTOM : Cosmic Birth

The alarm clock cried with clinking urgency, Ron awakening with a soft grunt, his arms wrapped around Annabelle's waist.

Her soft yawns, reminiscent of a baby's as she squeezed on his strong triceps.

"How about try not squashing me before dawn?

Remember you got superpowers, now?" even in slumber, Ron's sarcasm ruled his diction.

Annie's arms loosened with a chuckle, her legs entangled with his.

"Good morning, Babe," she kissed him as the two rubbed their nostrils against each other's.

Their lips met again, tongues tangling in an oral brawl, the fragrance of their minty breaths, permeating their nostrils, akin to candy.

Their soft kisses metamorphosed into a french kiss, both rolling in synchrony on the feathery draped bed.

The intricate interiors of the room were designed with an exquisite futuristic concept, spacious and luxurious.

State of the art furniture adorned every corner of the five star apartment, neat cedar sophistications, glistening in the dawning specters.

The roommates relished the delicate essence of their opulent new home.

Ron pulled Annabelle closer, stripping her thong with an experience that belied his youth.

Nibbling her oval heaving melons, he smothered their enormous voluptuousness, suffocating on them.

She hung her legs up, granting him unparalleled access through the "highway," and Ron, wrath the fury of his "truck," sliding in with a mild yet, ferocious thrust.

Their waists grinding in synchrony, their lips locked and tongues, flicking for hours, entranced in a sensual dance of erotica, neither willing to surrender.

Yet, after several heated hours of intensity, the dance hit its fever pitch, escalating into a climax.

Ron's furious pounding accelerated in a rapid succession of seven thrusts per second.

Annabelle's mild moans crescendoed into raspy screams.

The home was theirs, liberated from the stoic burden of heroism, at least for now — they could do whatever they desired.

The battle of infatuation endured beyond the dawn and eventually, the lovers hit orgasm, simultaneously, their stiffened bodies, jerking in unison.

He kissed her deeply before collapsing into the cozy abyss of their feathery bed, forged from the intensity of their lovemaking.

She giggled exasperatedly, her petite toe, tickling his.

Forthwith, the rising sun peered through the softly blowing curtains, culminating a wholesome new day.

"Rise and shine!" Annabelle smacked a pillow in Ron's face, its feathery essence dancing in the daylight.

"But I ain't slept for days," he murmured, gently.

"Cause you never let that little guy rest," she giggled, poking his junk with a toe.

"Hungry?

Whatcha wanna eat?" she inquired with a soft smirk that giveaway her vast knowledge on how to spoil a spouse.

"I'd love a slice of steak with beacons, burned black.

Scrambled eggs, no.. omelettes, juicy nice waffles, pastries, fruit salad and lots and lots of desert," he joked.

Annabelle chuckled, headed for the kitchen with a slow deliberate nude catwalk.

"Try not to squirt on the food, okay," Ron teased, her giggles, bouncing off the marble walls.

"I love you, my superhero girlfriend!"

"Love you too, Papii!"

...

Breakfast was served, a sumptuous delicacy served with syrupy cocktails.

A master in the culinary arts, Annabelle's mother had imparted her cheffing skills on her from a tender age.

The Dinning room was saturated with the lovely scent of barbecued steak and beacon.

The nectarean waffles glistened bronze, covered in honey, and the golden egg yolks steamed in the rays of light.

Strawberries decorated every corner of the chinaware, and the appetizing pastries were baked to perfection.

"Yummy," Ron muttered, biting into a creamy cupcake.

"I must say, Annie, your cooking is top notch. Best in Lagos!" he flattered, inducing a touch of hyperbole.

"Why, thank you. Gotta warn you tho, might be obese come the month's end," her words, bearing a sarcastic undertone.

Just then, the melodic jingling of the doorbells caught their attention.

"I'll get it," Ron dashed towards the doors, dumbfounded by the sight of his bestie, Cassie.

"Uhh.. hi Cass.. pleasant surprise," he stuttered with shyness, scratching a loose braid.

The tomboy leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed.

"So, you take a girl to the mall, leave her there, all alone, stranded and never show up?" her mild accusations were belied by an inward infuriation.

"I.. I.. was occupied, brawling with assassins," Ron stammered, his excuse, vague.

"And, it never occurred to you to.. you know, check up on me at the face of triumph? Not even a single call or.. text?"

"I'm sorry, Cas," he apologized with a head bowed low. "You're right, I'm probably the world's worst bestie."

"In as much as I just wanna strangle you right now, your apology warms my soul, igniting compassion within the recesses of my heart," she retorted with mixed emotions.

"Uhh.. Shakespeare?" the teenage scientist soon figured he should have kept his mouth shut, uttering the goofy words.

"No, me!" Cassie's piercing glares burrowed through him on the realization that her resentments never lingered when it came to Ron, her belly swirling with butterflies.

Hitherto, her glint transformed into a ravishing grin.

"Who's that, babe?" Annie's curiosity propelled her feet to the door.

"OMG, Cass?"

Cassie shrilled in bewilderment at the sight of the redhead.

She wrapped her arms around her, blooming joyously, both damsels, locked in an affectionate embrace.

"You're alive, you're okay!" Cassie chuckled in relief.

"I'd feared, we'd lost you to the inferno."

"I'd thought so too. But I feel great! In fact, I never felt better.

Ron never told you?" Annabelle giggled, her hands slipping off of Cassie's waist.

"Nope, the 'Werey' never tells me anything," Cassie's hands let go of Annie in a swift arc to Ron's occiput.

"Ouch!" he murmured, nursing the spot, as though her playful smack had hurt.

"Come on in, Girl! You look surreal," Annabelle welcomed Cassie into their opulent home.