.....The Morning After
By TG Stone
I'd got a job on the East coast, and had to find somewhere to live pretty quick. The web makes that a lot easier these days, and within a day I'd not only found Lloyd's lovely 3 bedroom house, but moved in. He was away quite a bit with his job in engineering, and was renting out 2 rooms – so, a house share. Great, much better than a tiny little bedsit, and hopefully I could have some laughs with people who already knew the town.
Sadly, the other sharer was Danny – who was a typical 22 year old lad. Either in the pub or on the X Box, hogging the tv. Didn't get the concept of washing up, didn't talk much due to having headphones in most of the time, and wore t shirts with slogans like 'I don't do uglies'. Charming. We sort of ignored each other, by mutual consent.
After a couple of months, it was the 30th birthday of one of the girls at work, so on the Friday we got our nails done, fished out the killer heels, and hit the town hard. Much wine was drunk, many songs were strangled in karaoke, there were some tears at the end, and a heck of a lot of laughter throughout. A proper good girl's night out. I even found a very fit young doctor in the last bar, and had 15 minutes of quality snogging and arse groping in the shadows, until the girls pulled me off to the taxi. Shame, it's been a while, and I was seriously up for fucking him. Then again, I was absolutely full of white wine, which does bring out my inner slut pretty effectively.
The taxi dropped me off outside Lloyd's house, but the girls made the driver wait til I was inside. Good job really, I nearly went crashing through the door when I missed the step. I grabbed the edge of the wall and steadied myself, turned round, and gave the girls a full military salute. The taxi went, with the sound of women cackling inside fading down the street.
After finally getting the key to do it's job, I gingerly tottered up the hall, using the wall for support. I'd cracked a nail when I nearly made an emergency entrance....and was stood staring at my hand repeatedly saying 'Fuck', when Danny walked through from the kitchen. He started to laugh, eventually saying 'So, good night out Liz?'
'Excellent night thank you' I replied, but this made him laugh again.
He said 'Well, you're swaying, you can't really talk properly, and your dress is all over the show – so it was definitely a top night. Come sit down, if you can. I'll get you a glass.'
'Why not?' I thought, and after carefully rounding the coffee table and a lamp, collapsed down into the armchair. Danny returned with a wine glass, and poured me a drink. He was smiling, and after he'd sat down on the sofa opposite said 'It's good to have a bit of a blow out now and again eh? So, let's see what state your memory's in – tell me all about it then.'
Apparently, for the next hour, that's exactly what I did. Helped on with more wine, I replayed every moment, every bar, every sad pick-up line we'd suffered, every emotional confession we'd uttered while in a group-hug at the taxi rank. I went into great detail about the young doctor. Danny was laughing again, saying 'Right, that explains the dress!'
Sometime after 3, my eyes must have started to close. Danny came over, put my glass on the table, and said 'Come on Liz, I think it's past your bedtime. You go first, I'll catch you if you have an incident on the stairs.'
So I stood up – well, Danny helped me up – and once my legs felt like they were going to play ball, strode off up the hallway. Holding firmly on to the rail I eventually made it upstairs, Danny behind me, and both of us giggling. At the top he turned right to his room, and said 'G'night Liz, glad you had a belter.' That was that, his door closed, and about 10 seconds later I was asleep on my bed.
Saturday morning was truly, truly horrible. I felt like I'd been in a boxing match, and the sun coming through the window stung my eyes. 'Shit, this is not good' I said outloud, but knew that what usually helped after a night on the razz was a very long soak in a hot bath. I rolled to the side of the bad - and looking like a little old lady, slowly got up. My dress was lying on the floor, so at least I'd taken that off. I padded out to the bathroom, my head pounding with every step.
Each drop of cheap white from last night seemed to be crystalised in my mouth. The bath could wait a minute, I had to clean my teeth. I rested against the sink, and reached for my brush, trying not to look in the mirror – I knew it wouldn't be a pretty sight. I'm brushing away, trying to be gentle with my poor head, and the door opens. At this I do look into the mirror, to see Danny walk in. He's wearing just grey joggers, and a smirk as he looks me up and down. Shit. I'm in last night's bra and thong, and nothing else. Stationary tooth brush in my mouth, panda eyes looking back at him from the mirror, and my butt on display.
'Gotta take a leak Liz, I'm bursting' he says. He turns to the toilet, lifts the lid, and I hear liquid hitting the water hard. He sighs a big thankful sigh.
Oh well, there's only one bathroom I suppose....but I'm not over the moon about the situation. Seconds tick by, me still not moving, it seems like the longest piss in the world. I'm looking in the mirror at his shoulders. They're good, broad; and still a bit tanned from his last holiday. I'd never thought about Danny's body, him not really being my type.
The waterfall stops, and I see the unmistakeable triple shrug of his arm as he shakes himself dry. Through my head runs, 'Great, now even if you were a nice housemate last night, fuck off Danny and don't check out my arse again.' But he doesn't leave – he turns, leans his head over a little, and stares right at my ass. A smile creeps across his face. Oh brilliant, I'm cornered here, and he's gonna have some fun at my expense.
Eventually he walks up behind me. I'm staring hard into the mirror at him, hoping his little joke ends soon. Quietly he says 'Fucking quality rear Liz.' I take the toothbrush out of my mouth and am just about to politely ask him to go forth when his finger brushes gently down my ass cheek. Jesus, what the fuck is this? For a 'Take the piss out of the nearly naked girl with a hangover moment', that's going a bit far Danny.
Then he leans over a little, and starting just above the back of my knee, slowly runs the tips of his fingers up my thigh. He trails them down again, then back up. His head's really near mine now, his chin almost on my shoulder. Four fingers reach my arse, pulse on my skin for a second, then slide forward. He rests one finger on my sex through the cotton. I gasp. Christ, having Danny's hand on my cunt this morning was certainly not on the cards.
Maybe because I hadn't slapped him – even though that had crossed my mind - the finger stayed there. Then he started to push gently on my folds in a circle, opening me up through the flimsy material. I'm shocked, but surprise myself by letting out a very small moan. Maybe it was the last of the wine still in my body, maybe the unfinished business with the young doctor, but Danny's finger probing me felt good.
