Chapter 5: What happens in Thortan, Stays in Thortan
I woke up to something snoring. It took me three breaths to realize it wasn't myself. It took me one second to realize who it was.
"OH SHIT!" Jeff Fucking Morrison was sleeping in my bed. This was bad. This was very bad. I checked under the sheets. I was wearing panties and nothing else. Jeff was buck naked. His dick in slumber mode. Oh fucking crap. What the hell had we done last night?
I canvassed my memory banks to the start of everything. Nolan had left after ten to go check up on his bar, and I had sat around lonely and unused till Jeff came up and offered to drive me to the bars. I refused to go to Big Bang, so we went to McNally's instead. I had so many fucking shots of Rumplemint.
"You're going too fast, sugar, slow it down a bit," he said somewhere at the bar. I took the shot knowing it would go down smoother because I was heck-a drunk and heck-a horny now that I hadn't been touched in over three days.
"I'm gonna need a few more of these if you want me to go home with you," I said shooting an umpteenth shot. I licked my lips in anticipation for the next and liking the feel of my tongue on anything. Seriously, I could rub it up against a light pole and it would feel good.
"Fine with me, Cal." Jeff rose his arm to get the bartender's attention and that's all I remembered up until we were fooling around at my house.
The memory surfaced halfway through a shower. I'd closed and locked the door hoping beyond hope that Jeff would get up and leave. After the bar, we had sat on the couch and kissed for a good half hour before he pulled me into the bedroom. His hands were everywhere, staring at my face, drawing down to the seam of my bra, and lower to the button on my Sevens. I wanted so badly to tell my past self to wake up, stop, but it didn't listen. Where was my fucking mother hen?
"So Cal. ." he giggled because he's a fucking nut, ". . get it , SoCal. Wanna get naked?"
"Na-ked." I had giggled too because it seemed appropriate. Oh God no. This cannot have happened.
"Yeah, baby, naked." His fingers slipped between my skin and the waist of my jeans, and I trembled a bit at the feel of hands on my belly. A feather would have sent me into an orgasm at this point. Jeff had always been semi-okay in the love making department. I think with alcohol it made him into a fucking porn star. His fingers grazed the lace of my panties I had put on for mystery date, thinking that I would be making love to some Brad Pitt look-a-like, but instead fooling around with some asshole ex-boyfriend. I sighed waiting till I could travel down the rest of memory lane.
Jeff's hands grabbed my hips placing me exactly where he wanted me, under him. The vivid images of him ripping a hole in the crotch of my jeans surfaced, and I cussed up a storm recalling the incident. Damnit! I liked those jeans. Jeff's snakey son-of-a-bitch fingers had traipsed their way inside of me before I could motion to dismiss. His mouth distracted mine to hush any dispute while he had me writhing with two little fingers. If he was still asleep in my bed when I got through with this shower I was going to cut them off. I remember him wrangling me out of my clothes, except for my panties which I had good drunken sense to keep on. But then his hand moved away.
"Where's that going? Put it back!" I demanded wrapping a finger around his belt loop so he knew I meant business.
"Say please," he cooed.
"Now!" I broke a fingernail trying to unbuckle and unzip him out of his pants. Jeff grabbed my hands and held them overhead while I griped about me being naked and him being clothed. His mouth found every nick and cranny on my neck and I may have agreed to spawn his young.
Jeff has always been able to hold his liquor. All seventy thousand of my brothers and first cousins can drink an entire keg before feeling the least bit tipsy, I have three shots of Rumplemint and I get sloshed. Knowing this, Jeff knew he wouldn't have to work hard at getting me naked. But he also knew if he didn't go fast enough I would pass out mid-fuck.
Jeff eased himself out of the shirt separating my skin from his. The feel of his hard frame on mine gave me goose bumps. Guys are rigid, overly firm, and sometimes I feel like I'm rubbing up against a tree trunk. I get whisker burn from their five-o'clock shadows and bruises when they squeeze too tightly. My kind of sex! Now if I could just have one goddamn orgasm with a guy instead of resorting to a vibrating egg and I'd be one content cow.
Jeff was busy groping, kissing and taking his sweet time not putting the head of his instrument anywhere near me. I was going to explode and he was more involved with my neck than anything else. I had gotten so wet that I think I'd soaked through the mattress and onto the floor below. I grabbed the base of him, flicking my best fuck-me eyes his way, and Jeff forgot about my neck. His breath was ragged. Now we were on the same page. I slid the tip along my panty covered slit hoping that this would give him the picture. But instead, probably because IT guys get as much play as John C. Reilly, Jeff suddenly froze, came all over my stomach, and passed out.
Oh thank Jesus! I guffawed in the shower remembering the whole thing now. I shut off the shower and listened for signs of life. Jeff was still snoring and I was stuck in nothing but a towel. I tip-toed towards the bedroom with the intention of grabbing the necessities and heading to work, but then someone knocked at my door. For chrissake!
