Stuffy is how I'd first describe waking up. Nausea rattles my brain and the unfamiliar magenta paint I'm forced to admire adds to my delirium. Can my legs move? Nope, my ass is sore and my quads feel like whipped cream. When I inhale through my nose I catch a whiff of alcohol and raunchy sauerkraut. It seems more than one person wet the bed.
I recall going to a bar last night and drinking heavily for reasons I don't want to divulge. My memory blanked and now I'm stuck between two giant hunks. One of which is snoring and the other is breathing in my face.
The right hunk, who I will hereby dub Mr. Snoozy, is an eastern dragon and is about two thirds bigger than me. His torso wrapping around to his nipples are jet black in color, with the only break being a green upside-down V on his sides. Jade green covered his enormous pectorals and chest. Given how his nipple is touching my cheek his pectorals must be very wide and packed with muscle. He could probably crunch my head to pieces his abs. I can't tell much about his legs because of the large comforter we're both under, so I crane my head up. His head is up against the bedpost as well as an awkwardly positioned arm. I see from the nape of his neck dark red fur blazed a fiery trail over the top his head that tapered to a prominent Mohawk. Small dinosaur eyes are between a lengthy snout, lined with keratin over the top and the signature long whiskers at the end. His scales felt bumpy and soft at the same time, like a deflated tire.
To my left lay someone similarly beefy. The species is an ibex, with the very long horns thankfully pointed away from me. Mr. Needs-A-Breath-Mint has shoulders the size of boulders but he isn't nearly as huge as his partner. Not much to say really. Gray coat of fur, white goatee, diamond six pack. His body isn't covered by anything so I can see the giant schlong he's packing. His fur has the texture of an expensive carpet except a little less rough. Hooves bequeathed the bottom of his chicken leg thighs.
I really shouldn't be happy about being stuck betwixt two mountains of meat. They might have taken advantage of my drunken state for a midnight stroll down my ass crack. Maybe they're boyfriends and wanted a third wheel to spice things. I'm sure they're stupid muscle heads that think every scrawny person they see
loooves
being the bottom bitch. Ugh, curse my bad habits. Whenever there's alcohol or partying I get carried away with things. I might have even agreed to the romping, though I wish I remembered it. Regardless, my safest bet is to leave before either of them notices the absence.
I prop myself up on my elbows. The furniture and lamps mean I'm in a motel. Mr. Snoozy is being obnoxiously loud, now sounding like a freight train. At least I'm not chained up. It must be early in the morning, one of the 'perks' of having a desk job. Oh that's right, I have work today. My phone is on top of the nightstand across from Mr. Snoozy and my clothes lay strewn on the floor next to sweaty gym clothes.
Legs are still kaput. More attention was put into my back than the front, the jerks. Should I risk the climb across Mount Everest? The alternative of waiting around would be worse I suppose.
I grab a handful of man-bun and drag myself from the sheets my legs are partially tangled in. Now that I notice Mr. Snoozy hogged the entire blanket to himself and I happened to get wrapped in it. My stomach and chest glide along his chiseled physique. Heat radiates from every cell. I'd be pretty comfy here if it weren't for the circumstances. A glance down the dark passageway of his legs shows a glimpse of a gigantic monster. I manage to grab it without any hitches.
Time is 6:23 A.M. No wonder they're still asleep and thank God for internal clocks. No new calls, texts, or numbers. Truly a one-night-stand.
What's the escape plan for leaving the bed? I could climb all the way past and tumble off the bed, but that might cause a ruckus. Twisting around and snaking down the middle of strong-arm town is an option. I see a thick tail lead down the bed like a rope from a princess's window. Hmm, I am contemplating how to get off from an unconscious man I'm technically groping so I think they're deep enough in REM for the former to work.
I feel a weight, a very heavy weight crushing my left leg and beautiful tail. Mr. Breath Mint turned over to his side, towards Mr. Snoozy. His horns are dangerously close to stabbing Mr. Snoozy's neck. The even closer proximity to each other and the pressure made something stir in my nethers. I found I couldn't help slightly humping Mr.Snoozy's hip as my stick hardened. I use the cavity in the dragon's breast as a pillow.
I'm in an awkward position right now. I'm not 90 degrees from the bed but twisted partially from my hips. It would be impossible to just pull myself out. It wouldn't be so bad, resting betwixt giant muscle-boobs, if it weren't for the smell. It doesn't help they both smell like sweaty jockstraps left to dry in the sun. Being near two gigantic armpits amplifies the BO 100 times. My fur and his chest feel sticky yet dry like hardened sap and cling to one another. Neither of us has taken showers.
No pain no gains as they say. I hold the nightstand for support and pull at a diagonal angle. I resist the urge to lick the nipple my body is grinding against and the one I'm heading towards. An arm swings overhead and smothers my face.
Woah woah woah woah woah eeeeeeewww. My forehead and snout make a triangle with a stinky armpit as the hypotenuse. I feel my leg twisting which causes my head to bury itself inside the pits.
My hot panting bounces back into my mouth as my nose takes in the musk. Breath Mint grabbed my leg from the underneath and turned. Is it even possible to do this while asleep?!
How do I even describe it the smell? Gym socks dipped in wasabi? 3 jockstraps from different people rolled into a ball? Muscle milk poured over a dumpster. The overwhelming masculinity blurs my better judgment. It's smothering me, I can't help licking the crevice. It's wet and tastes juicy. The sweat leaves a bitter aftertaste. Shame there's no hair, I would tickle them if I could.
Feeling returns to my legs. I can move them a little now. Not enough to escape their clutches. Whatever, my onset of horniness has driven me insane.
I use touch to find the base of my captor's dick. It's as thick as my fist. I should probably go to the hospital today. I rub the trunk as best I can from pit hell. Come on, I'm sure sex junkies like you can't help rubbing off every two seconds. I pinch the skin and pull out, it snaps back.
There's rumbling, then a sharp snore. The arm moves to touch the tree, freeing me. It holds the thing for a little then slumps to the side of the bed. I gulp fresh air. Behind me, I see Mr. Breathe Mint has mistaken my leg for a teddy bear. He's not holding it tight so no problem.
I crawl over the side of the bed, using an arm as a prop against the rug. I slowly lower myself to ground like I'm trying to do an agonizing handstand.
Slowly,
slooooo
- I lose my balance and tumble onto my back. The rug cushioned my fall and the noise. The snoring is going on strong, so I'm in the clear.
I move even slower to ease the pain of getting up. While I'm in an upright child's pose I look behind to see the damage that was done. The skin under my fur near my asscrack glowed red. A little clear liquid dribbles out. I hope that's lube. Standing turns into a bigger chore but I safely manage to do it.
You know, seeing those two meatheads sleeping soundly almost makes them seem cute? I must be deep in the rabbit hole to actually be thinking that. I'm amazed I was able to take one of their sausages and knowing my bad habits I probably double-dipped. Too bad, after person-who-shall-not-be-named did the thing-that-shall-not-be-thought-about, one-night-stands are no good. Besides, I have work.
Tank! from Cowboy Bebop plays. Shit, that's my alarm. OH SHIT THAT'S MY FUCKING ALARM. I attempt to run but stumble and must catch myself on the bed. That fucking horn or sax or whatever blasts full volume the loudest I have ever heard. They're still sleeping, get to it before it's too laaaaate.
I press the stop button so hard it hurts my finger and I power it off. I still my breathe and stare wide-eyed at them. My heart is so loud I swear they can hear it.
They don't stir. Praise the sun! The snoring's getting louder, even. It's early in the morning and we probably went to bed late, of course they-
while Mr. Snoozy moved his head back for a particularly loud snore Breathe Mint's top horn hooked Mr. Snoozy's mouth.
"Ow!" Mr. Snoozy's voice sounds hoarse. He lazily pushes the horn out of his mouth and thereby wakes Breathe Mint up. They both stretch and yawn. "You need to watch where you swing your head man." Breathe Mint strokes his goatee thing like an old man. I should come up with better names.
"It's only when I sleep that happens. What time is i-" breathe mint blinks, noticing me frozen at the nightstand. Mr. Snoozy takes the cue and notices me too.
"Oh hey.", he says. He bends his neck in a questioning manner. I stay frozen in place like a dear in the headlights and we say nothing for a while. Seeing them in motion puts my insecurity in the spotlight. I'm not fat but I am packing a little pudge, perks of a desk job. "What are you doing?"
