*This chapter is still about the tease. We'll get to outright sex eventually, so don't you worry!
Thanks for reading. I'm just starting out, so I love feedback, whether it's on tone, feel, spelling, grammar, whatever.*
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What was this.
It...it felt like someone with very big hands was pinching Matt's head between two fingers, then releasing it for a second, and then doing it again. Or like his head was stuck between two elevator doors opening and closing and opening and closing. Matt tried to open his eyes, and couldn't. His face was pushed down into some pillows, and all he could feel was a thump, thump, thump coming from inside his head and echoing into the rest of his body like a jackhammer in a parking lot. He let out a pitiful moan.
Holy shit did he have a hangover. Was this a hangover? This was unlike any hangover he'd ever had.
Where was he? Was it Monday? Did he need to get into the office? He ordered his brain to move his hand, which was sprawled to the other side of the bed, and feel for Anna. His arm reluctantly and clumsily obeyed, flopping from one part of the bed to the other. Nope. No Anna.
Where was she? He opened his eyes and let a little light in. It hurt. He moaned again and turned back into the pillows. He breathed in, trying to alternate his breathing from the thumping in his head.
Alright. He'd have to get up. He took a deep breath, bang went his head again in between the elevator doors, and pushed himself up off the bed, and then before he could tell it was happening he fell off the bed and onto granite floor. The impact hit with the same timing as whatever was banging on the inside of his brain and the sharp cold pain of the floor smacked through his body.
"Oh God," he said. His whole body hurt. He took a second, the pain oscillating from one side of his body to the other, but it was dark down here too. "Oh boy."
His whole body was also cold.
Wait, why was it cold? Where were his clothes? Was he naked? Yes, he was. And his whole naked body hurt and shivered.
He took in another breath and pushed himself off the floor to kneel at the bed. Anna was on the far opposite side of the huge bed, too far for his hungover arm to have reached. She was also naked, laying on her back, her arms and legs everywhere, her body contorted like she'd walked in and collapsed on the bed. Or, he thought for a second, like she been tossed there. What a strange thing to think, tossed. He looked more closely, squinting to block out the light. Anna's breasts heaved heavily with her heavy breaths, dropping a little groundwards and billowing up against a pillow. Matt stared at her tiny nipples, licking his dry lips, and found himself looking downward to see if he could see her pussy, but no, it was lost in the jungle of blankets and pillows.
His head banged against itself, reminding him that he needed to a) get dressed, b) find some Advil, c) figure out what the hell was going on.
He stood up. Gravity pulled him downwards and he stumbled a bit. Ok. Where were his clothes from before the nap. Oh, yes the nap. That's what he'd taken. He'd drank the smoothie, put some clothes away, then taken a nap. Anna was on the porch. Her tits pushing upwards. Wait what? Oh and the sound of the ocean.
They must have been so tired from flying. This must have been one of those jet lag two-hour naps. But why the headache?
He opened a drawer and put on some boxer briefs, closed the drawer, and then stumbled around the bed. He squinted and looked through the tinted black glass wall.
Someone was in the apartment. Matt squinted, forcing back the headache for a second. The someone was a woman, doing something in the kitchen. He refocused his eyes. There were fingerprints on this side of the glass wall. Where those his fingerprints? There was more on the glass wall, the outline of a body, with some kind of dripped stains all the way down the glass. The same fluid had, apparently, dolloped onto the floor too.
Matt noticed that it also smelled strange in here. Like sweat. And...something else. Something sweet, but pungent.
His head reminded his body that it hurt like hell. Matt cringed. What the fuck had happened during his nap? He stumbled out of the room and into the hallway. "Hello?" he asked, his voice sounding unlike his own, more like a dying frog. And dammit, the light was so goddamn bright from the ocean. The sun was high in the sky.
The woman at the kitchen counter said something, but Matt didn't hear her. He was too busy staring. The woman was tall, with long dark black hair that was pulled back with a headband and cascaded downwards halfway down her back. She was wearing a fashionable white, knitted, see-thru beach cover-up that stretched the length of her body, itself lending her body even more of a sense of curvaceousness. Underneath the cover-up was, of course, her ass, covered by a strikingly bright red one-piece that crawled up the middle of her butt cheeks and reached around her thighs. When she turned around, Matt audibly gasped.
This woman was, without question, one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. The red one-piece was stylish; classy, classic even, almost like a Cindy Crawford era scoop swimsuit. It could have looked dated, but on this woman, the swimsuit looked timeless. *She* looked timeless. From her ass, the swimsuit barely covered her pussy, and then traveled upwards, giving her large breasts room to hang just a little on the sides, like someone had dared them. The cover-up accentuated the spreading cleavage of her breasts. Finally his eyes made it up to her face, which was mature, even a little wrinkled, but striking. Lush lips, high cheekbones, a pointed nose, and absolutely gorgeous eyes. Matt wanted to look down again at her, to take a second pass, but he couldn't take his eyes off of hers; they were green, set in perfectly applied eyeliner, like emeralds deep in coal.
"Hello Matthew," she said. Her accent was thick, almost Italian, but, somehow even more exotic. Her eyes pierced back at Matt and then her gaze traveled to Matt's boxer briefs.
