My roommate, being finished with finals, boarded a plane home yesterday morning. Last night, because his bed is at a better angle to watch tv, I spent most of the evening in his bed, watching the Graham Norton Christmas special on Comedy Central and went throug the motion of opening textbooks in an ostensible attempt at studying. In fact, I ended up sleeping in his bed, in his sheets, his blankets, his pillows, everything.
I awoke this morning with a smile; sleeping in another man's scent really hit the spot. I know I always say that I'm going to stop harping on this, but it's been a while, and waking up with another man's scent lingering in the sheets made me almost think that there was another guy in the bed with me. I moved my body pillow to his bed too, which helped. Not that his bed smelled of sex, mind you--this may be creepy, but I know better not to get my rocks off on his stuff.
Now, you have to promise not to tell my roommate that I slept in his bed. Sure, I sexually harass him all the time, and threaten to touch him in his sleep if he's mean to me, but I think this would actually cross the line from jocular ribbing to just plain creepy.