A series of stories about the pleasures of youth and the fun had during those glory years....
Story Four -- The Morning After
I woke up the next morning with a hangover.
Woke up is probably too strong a word to describe what happened. I more or less came to. And what was that fucking annoying sound pounding in my head? It occurred to me, as my eyes finally focused on the ceiling, that it was a noise like a bell. Oh, shit! It was a bell. The doorbell. Shit! I was the only one home.
I immediately jumped up, sprang out of bed, promptly forgetting the state of my head. In my haste to get out of bed my feet tangled in the covers, and I tripped and fell over. Hitting the floor caused spasm of pain to shoot through my dehydrated head that felt like someone split my skull open with an ice pick.
"Fuck!" I screamed, unintentionally causing an aftershock as the sound of my own voice now echoed through my brain.
And the fucking doorbell rang again.
"Jesus Fucking Christ!" I wailed at no one in particular.
Whoever it was, I was going to kill the motherfucker. Visions of random torture flashed through my mind, as I finally made it down the stairs and to the front door.
"What the fuck do you want?" I asked angrily as I threw open the front door.
The bright light streaming in from outside hit me right in the eyes and I wasn't able to adjust them quickly enough to see who was standing outside the door.
"I could come back later," came a very determined female voice, with perhaps a hint of amusement in it. "If this is a bad time?" she added with emphasis.
In the second it took me to throw my hand up to shield the glare, I realized it was Ali standing there. Her backpack was swung over one shoulder.
"Uh, Ali," I stumbled, fumbling for something to say, "Damn. Sorry. I'm mean.... I didn't know it was you.... Shit. Do you wanna come in?" I managed to say finally, sounding about as stupid as I felt.
Visions of the night were flooding back into my mind with full force as she squeezed past my frame to enter into the foyer of my parent's home. She was dressed in a tight fitting top and designer jacket, with one incredibly short skirt barely covering her ass.
"We're supposed to work on the paper for history class, or did you forget?" she asked.
I tore my head from her ass to look her in the face as she turned to look at me saying, "That's a good look for you by the way."
I looked down at myself. I was still wearing the stained boxers I'd had on last night, and nothing else. Absentmindedly, I moved my hand through my unruly bed head.
"Right," I said, still dazed, "The paper. It's just that I didn't expect you to get here this early."
"It's not early, Marc," she replied nonchalantly, "It's noon already. When did you plan on getting started?"
"Noon?" I asked breathlessly.
One glance at the hall clock confirmed the truth. Well I'd already missed football practice this morning. Coach was gonna be wicked pissed at me.
"Damn," I said, "I guess you took more out of me last night than I'd thought."
That and the tequila I had when I got home last night.
I tried to smile my usual winning smile. I wasn't sure if it was working or not. I was too tired to care.
"Marc," she said pointedly, brushing aside my attempted charm, "I did want to talk about last night with you."
So the other shoe finally drops. My smile faded.
When I didn't respond she continued, "You know that Todd and I have been going steady for a while now right?"
I nodded.
Was Ali experiencing morning after guilt or something? Shit, if she was going to make this big a deal out of it, I was going to need some aspirin. Fuck, I was going to need the aspirin anyway.
"Well," she said, "I don't want you to think that last night was just something I do all the time."
Oh, I get it.
She's decided to take him back. Cool, I thought, whatever. At least I got a taste of her pussy before I died. I could live with that. Probably shouldn't tell her that Michelle Collins gave him a blowjob either. Hell, he'd probably also fucked her.
Not meaning to be rude, I turned my back on her, and I headed directly to the kitchen cabinet where my mother kept the pain reliever. I could hear Ali's soft footsteps on the floor behind me.
"I saw Todd after practice this morning before I came over here."
This was going to need more than just aspirin. I grabbed a beer out of the fridge.
"Do you want one?" I asked her.
I opened mine and used the first swig to wash down three aspirin.
"Maybe later," she said impatiently, "Can you let me finish what I'm saying?"
"Look, Ali," I said, interrupting whatever it was she felt she needed to say, and no doubt with a less polite tone than I used in my usual good humor, "I get it. I've got a fucking hangover. Last night was great, but I'm not stupid. It wasn't my first one night stand ever and I'm sure it won't be my last. To tell you the truth, I was feeling a little guilty about screwing my buddy's girl behind his back. It's okay. You don't need to make such a big fucking deal about it."
She looked at me calmly, and then said in what I gathered was the voice she used for little children and stupid young men, "Marc, what the fuck are you talking about? I came over here to tell you that Todd and I are through. The way I felt last night. That dick! And the way you made me cum. No man has ever made me feel that way. I've realized there's a whole world out there besides Todd. Believe me, I'm a girl who looks around before she buys."
Admittedly, I wasn't thinking too clearly yet. I was also a little stunned. There was not a part of me that really believed, even when I was balls deep inside her, that Ali was seriously going to leave the school quarterback.
