Poindexter and Charlene wake with the sun stabbing in their eyes. The others were still asleep, they realized they had slept together, but she didn't know if they had just slept together or he popped her cherry first. They went out and made themselves hot tea (with help of a microwave). Neither were seeing too well (mornings like this she needed her glasses to find her glasses). She felt the instinct to drink water while the microwave spent two minutes heating their mugs, teabags and water. After draining the first refill and refilling again, Poindexter asked, "May I?"
"What?"
"Can I please have some water?"
"Sure." And he handed him the full glass. Dexter was naked, slightly queasy and quite placid. Charley had a splitting headache and didn't even notice Dexter's nakedness when she brushed her hand against his penis as she passed him. While Dexter was aware of what felt like she was brushing against his naked dick, he dismissed the possibility as a trick his hung-over mind was playing on him. The microwave screamed at what seemed twice the volume. They took their tea and drank, not aware enough to pull the teabags out. "I feel like shit."'
"I hope it's not because of me." Dexter smiled his eyes were finally focusing enough to see her naked body. Dexter was near sighted but his vision wasn't so bad as to prevent him seeing without his glasses but reading more than a few newsprint-sized columns of text gave him a headache.
"No, we did we do after dinner as far as you remember?" He was too hung over to notice or care that she made several syntax errors.
"Well... we were finishing dinner when you house mates came in... the beer."
"Note to self, never chug beer again." She moaned quietly
She groaned in agreement, "We couldn't have had just one beer a feel like this, could we?"
"What do those bottles say?"
He read the major domestic brewer's name 6 times (in brown bottles) and then a clear differently shaped bottle. "Everclear... 195 proof... beer... 10 proof?"
"Shit, did they? Oh fuck. I need my glasses."
"I put them on by mistake, made my headache worse. I put them over here." She slapped her palm and fingers on his shoulders held on barely tight enough to stay with him. Dexter would honestly say she held on loosely. He opened and gently placed her glasses onto her face. She caught a glance in her mirror and blushed.
"What's wrong?"
"I'm naked."
"I know my hang-over is less... I get to look at a gorgeous woman." He stood beside her in the full length mirror making no effort hide a growing erection. "What could possibly be embarrassing about this body?" Before she could get a word in edgewise, "Let's start with your most obvious feature you seem to hide: your breasts. They're round, symmetrical mounds with perky nipples and are all a nice north-central European skin color. You've got practically no aureole, which is a major factor to my reaction." He pulled her left hand encouraging it to drop by her side, then positioned himself so her hand collided with his erection.
She blushed more, but this just made him extend his soliloquy, "Do you realize this ass you've got... I've never before seen a real woman with an ass that is simultaneously not too big and not too small."
Her knees quaked in part from being naked in the air stream of the air conditioner already set too cold for her tastes, but more from the emotional discomfort and the need to empty her bladder. She left his side, ran towards the toilet, swatted at the door and missed and sat on the toilet seat, all while Dexter watched unable to think quickly. It wasn't until she was half-way through her 90-something second piss that he realized two things, she was pissing and he needed to, also.
They did paper-rock-scissors for first dibs on the shower, they both put out paper. "Again or shower together."
"Were you lying?"
"What about?"
"My body."
"Yours is the hottest body I've ever seen in the flesh and one of my uncles took me to a strip club with a lot of women stripping naked when I turned 18."
"Then there's the hooker at the massage parlor." She added.
"Yes, she was the Mamasan of the place, but still she was beautiful."
"You..." She stopped herself before she could add 'mean she was older than your mother?' to prevent the thought from making her headache worse, although, neither yes nor no would have struck her as sick, twisted or just plain unusual. The emotions she had bouncing around in her were part of her headache's cause; any answer would add emotions (and thus add to her headache).
"What?"
"What would you like to do about showering?"
"I wash your back; you wash mine."
"Okay."
They showered together and stood in the tight quarters touching much more like they were both high school sophomores rather than the university sophomores they were. She passed the liquid body wash and he added some to the washcloth. When he handed it back, he had gotten a little body wash on the bottle and she dropped the soap. On instinct she bent down and her pussy bumped onto his erection and hand keeping his erection pointing down. He reached all the way between her legs with a soapy washcloth and rubbed her pubic mons, then drew it back towards him. She moaned to express contentment. Her moan echoed. She shoved and held the body wash into the corner of the mounded indentation, on the shower stall. Then shoved her loofah, narrow end down between a clear plastic dowel above the mounded indentation the body wash was on and the wall of the shower stall, and allowed the first washcloth since she was 11 touch her body (she'd used loofahs since then). She bowed her legs and let Dexter have any access he cared to. She raised her arms up, then bent them behind his head.
"I want your hands inside me." She spoke in a begging voice.
"Alright, but may I explore your tits first." He covered her breasts with the washcloth and rubbed them through the cloth, especially the nipples.
She just melted; she would have emptied her bladder had she not done that less than 10 minutes earlier. "Please... continue." She said dreamily.
Her hair was still in a bun (as it was yesterday when she cooked and when she passed out). He licked the spine of her neck as he rubbed her nipples firmly and ground his erection between her cheeks. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she let out a loud moan as she came then and there. Her legs lost all their strength and she was hitting the shower stall floor knees first. He just grabbed the underside of her tits and couldn't lock his knees, so he let her sink slowly, bowing his knees out wider until the shower stall refused to yield to his left knee and the opaque plastic curtain bent to accommodate his right knee's changing positions.
Once she was on her knees, he stood, sending his erection over her shoulder and brushing her right cheek. He had sweated a lot last night and smelled as of he hadn't showered in 36 to 40 hours rather than the 12 to 16 it really had been. She used her left hand to expose her breasts and used the cloth to wash off his penis. She dribbled some body wash on the shaft of his penis and used it as lube; she rubbed him hard, too hard to be pure pleasure. Her too hard rubbing kept him for a quick orgasm. He eventually grabbed her hands to stay them. He asked her to stand and rinsed the soap off. "Do you have any lube besides the olive oil you used last night?" She obeyed, just because the question seemed a bit too weird to keep her face below dick level (she was not quite 5 foot tall or as she preferred to say, a meter and a half plus less than 1%).
"I thought... what?... Did we?... We didn't have-"
