Rebecca's Morning After

How do I get into these situations?

I woke up sweaty and supremely uncomfortable. The pinging headache could be explained from the long night of wild drinking from the night before. The knee under my back, and the hairy thigh across my hips -- these were harder to explain.

I cracked my eyes and let in the painful sunlight. I recognized the sloppy decor of the room. I was in my boyfriend's apartment. But this was not his bedroom.

I craned my head around and found my boyfriend, Kevin, sleeping next to me. The

other

guy was Todd, one of Kevin's roommates. And we were in

Todd's

room. What the heck had I been up to?

After a moment of trying (in vain) to remember last night's details, I sat up. Jeez! -- there was a

third

guy in the bed, and I didn't recognize him. I was pretty interested in recognizing him, because we were lying crotch to crotch, and it was his leg across my hips,

and

he was naked.

I realized I was looking down at this stranger over my own bared breasts. At least I had my panties on.

"I wish I had a picture of you right now," said Kevin, as I flopped back down.

I shot him a "be quiet!" look. Before I could whisper anything, Todd rolled onto me and nestled his face in my chest. He had me pinned, and I dared not move.

Kevin started snickering, shaking the bed. I was afraid he would wake everybody up.

"Where's my shirt?" I hissed.

Kevin wasn't in the mood to whisper. "I think you left it in the cab. You don't remember 'paying' for the cab ride home?"

I was torn between asking about the cab ride, and keeping quiet for fear of disturbing our bed-mates.

Todd mumbled something in his sleep -- my hyper-sensitive left breast felt his lips moving against my skin. Then a thread of drool started sliding down the curve to my armpit.

I started to whisper, but then Todd moved again. I waited, stiff, as his hand slid across my stomach, and his lips traced down towards my nipple.

Kevin's eyebrow raised, his smile growing wider as he watched my conflicted expressions. Then Todd's lips closed over the nipple, which was naturally completely stiff and pointed at the ceiling. After a few sleepy sucks, he started snoring.

I tried to prioritize my situation. "Who is this guy between my legs?"

Kevin shrugged sleepily. "Last night at the bar, you started talking about how you'd 'Pay my rent' for me. I don't know why he's here. You got him on the street while we were waiting for a cab, and brought him back with us."

"I

what?

"

"It's okay. I actually know him from my photography class."

"But

I

don't know him."

Kevin put his finger on my lips, to keep my voice from growing more strident. "Don't worry, nothing happened." He laughed quietly. "Well, he

did

try to give you twenty dollars. And you

did

take off his clothes. And then yours. And you

were

going to start playing with him -- but you kept

talking

. Talk, talk, talk. About how you'd only take ten dollars, though he was going to give you twenty. And then he passed out."

"Damn my stupid mouth," I groaned. "Why did you let me drink so much?"

"Hey, you're a grown-up," said Kevin. "Don't put this on me."

He was right, but I had to vent my embarrassment somehow. "But you were going to let me blow him for ten dollars!"

Kevin sat up on an elbow, looking down at me. "So you

do

remember? You were going to 'sell your mouth' and 'drink cum', but at a 'reasonable price'? And earn my next-months rent that way?"

"No!"

"If you don't remember, how come you knew it was a blow-job?"

"You were going to let me give a blow-job to some guy off the street!"

"How did you know?" His voice was challenging. And a little loud. Todd stirred slightly, and began nursing on my nipple again. His damp lips and dry tongue forced my attention to my chest. It was hard to find a response for Kevin. "Answer me," he insisted.

"It's my

thing,

" I heard myself say. Oh, how horrible. Why did I drink so much last night? Why can't I keep my mouth shut when I'm drunk? I'm always acting out, it's fucking humiliating. And I never learn.

"Your thing?" prodded Kevin.

Though I was mostly naked, and spread out in bed with his roommate and a stranger, I felt an odd sense of intimacy towards him. Regardless of what weirdness was happening now, and might happen in the near future when everybody woke up and saw me, I felt very close to Kevin. Of course it helped that Kevin was grinning down at me, interested and listenable. He had sandy hair that stood out in all directions, a stubbly cleft chin, and a very, very wicked smile.

Trying to put Todd's mouth out of my mind, and careful not to displace his head, I turned my face to Kevin and whispered, "It's like a fantasy. It's

just

a fantasy. And when I drink too much I talk it out. I never

do

anything." That I remember, I added to myself. "And that's why I almost never drink." Except on weekends.

Kevin was nodding. "That's only normal, really. I'm the same way. Remember when your friend from high school visited? Andrea? That's why I spent all that time trying to argue her out of her panties."

"She wants them back," I said, sulkily.

"Nuh-uh. They're mine now."

"So you have a panty fetish?"

"No. I just generally like girls without underwear. But

you

," he tapped my lips again. "Who knew? That underneath your organized, A+ outward personality, and then underneath your insecurities and raging daddy-complex, there was this hot, steaming sex goddess?"

"Don't tease," I warned. I couldn't sound very threatening with his roommate clamped to my breast like a 6-month-old.

Kevin was just getting started. He intoned, "How lucky am I, to have a secret turbo-slut with an easy on-switch? Someone subconsciously driven to pay all my debts with her mouth? Just put ten dollars in her panties and she'll put your cock in her mouth..."

"Shut the fuck up!" I was ticked off now, but the visual image was just too funny. I tried to hide my grin.

Kevin's finger ran across my lips, and I looked up at him sidewise. He was still smiling, but there was an intense look in his eyes. His finger traced over my lips, and then pressed in. Slowly, I let him into my mouth, my eyes on his. I held his finger on my tongue, my lips around his knuckle.

While I held Kevin's finger in my mouth, I knew he was mine. Maybe it was my general exposure in that strange bedroom, or that I was turning him on while two other people snored inches away. Or maybe because it was because I'd finally told him my biggest fantasy. (Even though I hadn't told him the details that I'd built up in my mind since high school. All the different scenarios, specifically where the cum goes, whose, and how many in one night...) Anyway, whatever the cause, I felt very open, with nothing to hide.

So when he crooned -- "You'd suck dick and give me the money? You'd mouth fuck this guy here to pay for my breakfast?" -- I held his gaze and nodded. I wanted him to know that I

would

.

"And you'll do it today, right? You'll put the money in my hand?" his voice was throaty, thick with excitement. I would've done anything for him just then. I nodded again, and so help me, I meant it.

He shifted his weight, and I thought he changing positions to put his cock in my mouth. That would have been the topper, after confessing my fantasy and hearing about how I'd tried to act it out. To suck Kevin's dick -- quietly, without moving, and probably for a long time -- would've sent me over. I imagined myself coming in the middle of this pile of torsos and limbs.

But Kevin was getting out of bed. "Don't move."

With a minimum of disturbance, he was up and walking out of the bedroom. The door, I noticed, was wide open. I lay there taking inventory of my body. Todd was snoring again temporarily, face on my breast -- he'd have a crick in his neck. The nameless stranger, who Kevin knew from class, was a dead weight at my crotch. My legs were spread, but they were also asleep, which never happened. I felt singularly pinned in the pile of heavy, somewhat rank masculinity.

Then Todd's hand shifted over my stomach. A guy seems to know, even when he's asleep, when his hands are on a girl. His hot, damp palm moved across the curves of my stomach, then orbited down to my hips, and then came to rest on the mound of my vagina. I tried to stay relaxed and quiet, so that he might stay asleep, mostly. This was more than I'd signed up for, that was for sure. Since when does a girl tell herself, relax

into

the uninvited pussy grope?

Todd's palm seemed perfectly fitted for my pussy. It --

I

-- was getting hotter under the weight of his palm, and the slow, sleeping flexes of the fingers.

I glanced down, and noticed that the stranger's prick was actually touching me. It was flaccid, but of respectable length, and actually lying across my inner thigh. I didn't know how I felt about that. I thought about being skin-to-skin with some unknown cock, and about how skin sweats and gets sticky. I couldn't be sure, but we might have been stuck to each other. I didn't know how I felt about that either.

"Hey, Rebecca," said Todd suddenly. His sudden voice sent chills down my spine, and I tensed up, when I'd actually been relaxing thanks to his hand between my legs. I thought the whole weird morning-thing was broken. But no -- he was groggy, one eye gummed shut, barely able to enunciate. He was hardly conscious.

I tried to seem casual. "Hey."

He lifted his face to me, "You're in my bed."

"We're all in your bed." I tried to think fast. "I don't want to get up yet. Just go back to sleep."

A cow-like expression crossed his face. He was trying to think. "I may never get another chance at you..." he said.

"Sh." I wrapped my hand around his head and pulled him back down to my chest. "You'll have lots of chances."

I stroked his hair, trying to be soothing about it, while he nursed on my nipple and finally started snoring again.

The photo shoot

I was still thinking about the chills when Kevin returned. Had I been scared that Todd was seeing me like this? Or had they been, like, horny chills? If there had been slightly more pressure behind Todd's hand on my pussy, I would have been amenable. What did

that

mean?

Kevin was setting up his camera on the desk across from the bed. It was the fancy thing he used to take pictures of me for his class. He leaned over and looked through the viewfinder, centering the lens on the bed. "Ameet is already up, studying," he whispered. Kevin's third roommate. "He's one guy at least who is not in this bed."

"You know," I whispered back, barely audible, "I thought you were getting me clothes."

His grin said it all:

Why would I get you clothes, when I can get pictures of you in this horrible situation?

Or perhaps I was projecting. Kevin could be very thoughtful, but in day-to-day stuff he reliably followed his own interests. It's part of what I like about him, because it makes him completely predictable. I knew exactly how he'd behave, if there was a picture he thought he could take.

He sat down on the floor, with his back against the desk and the trigger in his hand. He looked at me expectantly.

Oh.

He wanted me to pose. I recognized the look from our photo sessions. He liked me to try some stuff before he actually gave directions.

I knew what I was supposed to do. Find where the light is. Figure out what the purpose of the pictures is.

The light was full on me, coming in through the open, uncurtained window in front of the desk. Four feet out from the window was another open window, which opened onto the stairwell of the next building. If my luck kept going the way it was going this morning, there would be people walking past it soon -- and stopping, doing double-takes.

As for the purpose of the pictures, well, that was to capture the atmosphere on film. I didn't know why Kevin was trying to be so artistic about it. A few snapshots uploaded to a school bulletin board usually satisfied my last boyfriend, only I didn't like it when he showed my face or posted my school email. I

still

get messages from those pictures.

About those pictures -- they're not as good as Kevin's but they're

all

over the place, which is good exposure for me. I've come across them on different websites, and so have my friends, work buddies and classmates...

Try explaining a total frontal nude as a desktop background to your boss someday: "Oh, no sir, I don't mind. It's from my portfolio after all. Yes, sir, of course I can put it on your laptop too. Why, yes, I do have more. Sure we can look at them together."

And why don't you stand behind me and breathe down my fucking cleavage for the next two hours. Oh and be sure to get your golf buddies in here too, to make bad jokes about me. And be sure to expense the lunch where you buy me martini after martini. Why, no, I didn't know you're an amateur photographer.

I sound sarcastic, but actually that turned out okay, because I might pose for him at one of his poker nights, free food and booze, as much as I want,

and

I'd get paid $7 an hour!

But back to Kevin -- good film, good light, good exposures -- he wanted this scene captured in a big way. He wanted me

really

on display. There's a modeling thing called

surrender

, where you

inhabit

the situation. With Kevin, I seemed to have to practice that a lot.

I felt a blush spread down my neck and to my chest. I like to think I am a good model, that I can minimize myself for my photographers. I didn't like that I was blushing, I should've just been giving Kevin his pictures. But I'm a catalogue model, and the raciest thing I've done, for the mass public, is lingerie (apart from Kevin's class pictures). For this shoot,

I

was to be the focus instead of my clothes, which made this either high art or porn. Me and two guys... I skipped over that thought quickly. I had to trust Kevin.

My hand went back to Todd's head, stroking his hair. I turned my face away from him in a sort of abashed look, which I was actually feeling. *Click* went Kevin's camera.

I held Todd's head closer, and soon he stirred enough to take my nipple back in his mouth. That nipple was getting a workout this morning! It was stiff, and just full of blood and sensation. I was using poor Todd's mouth as a prop, for my posing. But it was also getting to me a little. As the sounds of his smacking and sucking were the only noise in the bedroom, and I couldn't get off the fact that he was munching down on a delicate part of

me

.

Sure, guys might get a glimpse during the day, especially at work, as I don't need a bra and my shirts are low and loose -- casual fit. And maybe once every few days someone might cop a feel on the subway, but only a once on the bare skin when my breast had been peeking out for I-don't-know-how-long (since class? during class?). I had remembered the sudden zap of the stranger's palm on my nipple for a long time. But this was all different -- this was on the verge of becoming sexual.

Somewhere inside me a string was getting tighter. My back arched, and I went with it. My mouth opened with a sigh, and I grabbed my other breast with my free hand. I pulled it cruelly, something I usually never do in front of guys, because they'll get the wrong ideas and be too rough. I turned to the camera lens, and beseeched it with my eyes, cupping my breast to the viewfinder.

Kevin's camera kept on clicking. Kevin's personality seemed to change whenever he took pictures of me. He seemed to disassociate himself from me, to sort of view me as posable meat. He could be very cold to me, and the guys he brought in to pose with me, but afterward he would be normal again.

Artists.

I'd done all I could do with poor Todd's mouth, and with making faces at the camera. But I didn't want Kevin to start issuing instructions. I knew what I could do next, but I don't know if I wanted it. I did it anyway.

My hand didn't feel like my own, as it slid down my waist to my panties. Todd was not fully asleep, and his palm was closing and opening on my mound. When he was relaxed, I quickly pulled the front of my panties down. I saw Kevin's sudden interest, so I knew I was on the right track. I stretched the panties away from my sex, and stared at the ceiling -- I didn't trust my eyes for this.

Todd's hand slipped from the top of my panties and landed on my pussy. Then I could feel how wet I was, as his fingers slid around. I tried to think,

For the pictures, for the pictures.

I seemed to feel every detail of Todd's hand between my legs, how his fingers curved around and sank into me. Careless if he was awake or asleep, I let the panties snap back over his wrist. With his hand buried in my snatch, I went through the poses and expressions again. But this time I was feeling more scattered and discomposed. Before long, my eyes weren't focusing correctly. I was breathing too hard, and forgetting my light source.

I had the feeling of a timer running down. I didn't know what to do next, and Kevin wasn't talking. I wanted to give him his finale, but he seemed perfectly content to wait until Todd brought me off in his sleep. Maybe

that

was his finale.

The stranger joins in

"Oh, hey, dude," said the guy between my legs.

I froze -- I'd been moving too much without thinking about it. My hips grinding Todd's hand, rocking against the stranger's cock. It had been steadily lengthening, and I'd ignored it, or not cared.

And I also didn't realize -- until later that morning -- that Todd's hand stopped at exactly the same time. The fucker had been awake, playing with me... or rather, letting himself be used. Since he was a guy, he wasn't thinking about the artistic side. He was only thinking,

tits

,

vagina

, or some

guy

thing. I'm still not able to convince him it was about creating an atmosphere on film. Whenever the story comes up, he brags about finger-fucking me on camera. Which is

so

not the whole story, but try telling that to a group of fraternity guys while Todd is producing the pictures from his wallet.

"Hey," Kevin answered.

In a barely intelligible and still-drunk voice, the guy asked, "My forty minutes still going? With the chick?"

"Sure," said my boyfriend. "Have at it."

I wasn't shocked that Kevin said that. Like I said, he was predictable, and just then he wanted his pictures. And I am not sure I wouldn't have said the same thing, to change the static situation with the posing.

But the other, non-model part of me was thinking:

I gave him 40 minutes with me?

And, what does

Have at it

encompass?

Todd had an aversion to naked male flesh, even in his sleep. I was too overwhelmed to think about it when he accommodatingly rolled off me. For a moment I was free and unencumbered -- arms open, back arched, breasts pointed at the ceiling, head thrown back, gasping slightly, and my pussy lips seeming to grab at the cloth of my panties with the same throbbing rhythm of my whole body. If this hadn't been a photo shoot, you would have thought I was primed for penetration.

As the guy crawled clumsily up my body, Kevin's camera went *click* *click* *click*.

"You can't use my face," said the guy automatically. I remembered that he was a photography student too, so maybe he had qualms about Kevin projecting these particular photos on the screen for his next assignment. But then he wasn't a model, like I was.

"Then don't look at the camera, because fuck yeah, this is going in my project."

I was glad for the feedback. But I tried to keep a professional demeanor, like,

Yeah, we have a good thing going here.

Kevin added, "And don't cover her up."