There were two holes on either side of our bed, indentations after years of sleep from his body and mine. I could reach my hand out into the vastness of the king sized sheets, searching for his warmth and not find it. We were alone on each half of our shared space. We thought it was cute how we would snuggle only our feet, we liked it that way, not too hot or sweaty.
Now, there is only one hole, somewhere in the middle, and it is a little bit bigger. It holds us both together. We snuggle our feet, calves entwined with shins, kneecaps fit into crooks of legs, warm thighs rub slowly together, hard cock fits into cleft of cheek, humping sleepily, belly to back, arms reach around, fingers grasp nipples, cheek rests on shoulder, chest hair softly tickles, breath combined in a tangled warm embrace. There is a hole in the middle of our bed, an indentation from our two bodies.