Ellie woke in the mucky aroma of last night's cigarettes and hard, oh so hard cider. Her musty hair clung to... "whose pillow is this?" she thought. She shot upright, constrained and trapped in sheets she did not recognize. "Whose room is this?" She gazed at the dark blue room with Aztec frosting-white crown molding. "Is this a man's bedroom? How drunk was I?"
Her fingers pulled at the boa-constricting fabric. "Oh dear lord I'm nude."
She fell out of bed and, somehow, involuntarily managed to take the covers with her, which luckily worked in her favor.
She tip-toed across the peculiarly neat bedroom. "Must be a gay man's bedroom.... Oh, no, I slept with a gay man."
A chest-lurching crack of pipes sounded down the hall. Running water noisily surged through the old Victorian home. She crouched and crawled the wood floors, nails anxiously clawing the boards, so that she could poke her head into the hallway undiscovered.
Steam rose beneath a door at the end of the corridor. The source of shower racket reverberated off newly painted walls. Plastic overlay floorboards, and a few packing boxes crowded the corners and entries of several rooms with wide-open-look-in-here doors.
She paced past a living room with several tall-backed comfy chairs wrapped in plastic and an overly... hairy rug of some sort. "Is that yak?" she thought.
The living room had an unblinded balcony with square window-walls and a dark mahogany spiral staircase, leading to the... first floor? She couldn't remember anything about this house or its owner, and the lack of blinds uncomfortably exposed her to whomever may be looking through the windows.
With a deep breath and moment of silly hesitation, she begrudgingly opened the bathroom door. A rush of steam slapped her in the face.
"Hey! Good morning!" said an excited, unfamiliar voice.
Ellie stood dumbstruck while her eyes adjusted to the smog. She could hear a glass shower-door creak open and soft pattering footsteps. Gentle, wet, feminine lips licked and massaged her own. "Good morning," they whispered into her ear. She shivered as tip of tongue and frame of mouth prodded and teased her neck. Long, thin fingers slowly freed Ellie from the ravel of dark-blue bedsheets, and a warm, welcoming body crept closer to her own.
Awed, Ellie's hands caught the base of the woman's hips and traced the cradle of her ribcage. They braved the overwhelming, blood-rush, dizzying steam and dove into an electrifying hug. Ellie fish-flopped to the floor. Sparks and dots flew before her eyes.
"Ellie! Are you okay?"
A whip of familiar blonde hair smacked Ellie's face.
