tagHumor & SatireFirst Night Back

First Night Back

byVinny Smith©

"No thanks, I'm done. It's my first night back," I told the bartender when he asked if I wanted another. Two drinks were enough, all I wanted was to get out of this hell and get back to my motel. It was karaoke night at this little joint in Burbank and the woman I was with wanted to dance. First of all, I hate to dance because I'm no good at it. Second of all, who can dance when the singing is so God-awful bad? I didn't want to go there at all but it was the only place open late on a Sunday night and I had no place to dump this woman.

Anna and I had been working on a mutual friend's documentary film and had just finished following a NASCAR driver all over hell and back for two months. I had given up my apartment to take the job thinking I could save two months rent and get something new when I came back. In the meantime, I was staying in this little motel close to where we'd be editing the film. Anna on the other hand, was from New York and had only one other friend in L.A., this idiot-girl named Vicky whom I knew from another project and whom she was supposed to be staying with.

Anna had made numerous attempts to reach Vicky throughout the day to no avail. I suggested she get a room for the night but she insisted Vicky was solid and that she would follow through on her promise to put her up. "Let's go get a drink while we wait," she suggested innocently enough. I had given her a ride back from Phoenix and was, unfortunately, her only transportation until idiot-girl picked her up. I couldn't just dump her somewhere, I felt like I needed to at least make sure she met up with her friend. So there I sat, wishing for either a phone call from idiot-girl or a quick death.

Two things I need to mention about, Anna. First, she had a husband back in New York and second, she was apparently a raging alcoholic. I'd seen her put away a few while we were on the road. She never went back to her room without a bottle of wine. I never much cared, though, since she always made it to the shoots on time and hadn't made any costly fuck-ups. But now she was on my time and damn, she was sucking them down. She'd had at least three martinis and four shots of something that smelled pretty fucking nasty. Then when she could hardly stand, much less walk, she tried to drag me out to dance. "Okay, that's it, we're going to have to go," I said when she fell onto the dance floor.

"Oh come on, one more drink," she pleaded.

"I don't think so." I lifted her off the dance floor and pulled her toward the door.

"What about, Vicky? She's supposed to come pick me up."

"I can't wait any longer, I gotta work in the morning," I said.

"So where am I gonna sleep?"

"My room I guess."

"Oh really. Thinking of making a move, are you?" She was slurring her words and her eyes were barely open. "I wonder what my husband would think about that," she said in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear. They always mentioned their husbands or boyfriends whenever they wanted the other people in the room to know they weren't "with" you.

"I think he'd just want to know you were safe," I said. I wished that poor, dumb bastard was there. This should be his problem, not mine. God I hated drunks.

"I'm just fucking with you," she slurred as she tried to slap me playfully upside my head.

"Okay," I said. I caught her arm just before she made contact with my noggin. "Let's just go."

****

Anna was barely conscious by the time we reached the motel. I carried her from the car to the room and flopped her down on the bed - the only bed. I was going to have to either sleep on the floor or in a chair. First night back and I couldn't even sleep in a bed. It's not that I couldn't, I just didn't want to have to explain an awkward situation in the morning. I was better off elsewhere.

I went to the closet and pulled the extra pillow and blanket off the shelf. I turned around and saw that Anna was now standing next to the bed fiddling with the button on her jeans. "What are you doing?" I asked.

"I have to poop," she said.

That's information I could have done without. "Umm... bathroom's thataway," I said, pointing the correct direction.

"Okay," she said, and dropped her jeans before I could say anything else.

She was wearing a sexy blue thong looked textbook perfect on her. I couldn't help but stare. I kept quiet so as not to remind her that she was half naked in a motel room with a guy other than her husband. With her eyes barely open, she headed for the exit. "Whoa, hang on, it's this way." I took her by the arm and led her to the bathroom instead.

She opened her eyes and looked around. "Oh... yeah... thanks."

I left her to her movements and shut the door behind me. I hoped like hell she could take care of everything herself.

I put aside thoughts of what she was doing in there and tried to concentrate on the memory of her in that thong. I forgot to mention before that this was a good-looking girl. She was in her late-twenties, had dark, shoulder-length hair and a killer body. She was a vegan, which explained the killer body but didn't explain the alcohol abuse. She was taking care of herself one way and killing herself in another. As hard as I tried, though, I couldn't help but think about what would happen if she shit and passed out before she could, you know, wipe.

About ten minutes went by with no noise then suddenly the glorious sound of a toilet flush. Thank God, I thought, but then there was no more noise for a few more minutes. Finally, as I was about knock on the door, I heard what sounded like flesh hitting the floor. I tried to open the door but she had fallen against it. I pushed it open enough to squeeze in. Apparently she'd passed out as she was leaving. I glanced around and every indication was that she had taken care of business without incident.

I carried her back, laid her on the bed and cursed under my breath. Did I mention I hate drunks? Thong or no thong, I wasn't having fun. That didn't stop me from staring at her a while longer, though.

Suddenly I had a thought. I remembered one night when a bunch of guys on the crew and I were sitting around discussing Anna and the other four women on the project. We were guessing how each one might maintain their pussy hair. Out of the five, only two had been confirmed. Julia had fucked one of the guys in the group so we knew she was shaved bare and Maria was dating, Eddie, who had no qualms in telling us that she had trimmed it down to a little Mohawk strip. Jeannette was a hippie-type so we were pretty confident she had a full, uncontrolled bush. As anal as Jessie was, she just had to keep hers perfectly manicured. The jury was still out on Anna. She was the only one who was married and the only one no one could agree on. Everyone guessed something different. I said she was bare around the lips with a triangular tuft of hair above. Eddie was adamant that she was full bush; Jerry insisted she was shaved and Tommy couldn't decide between Mohawk or trimmed and shaped but was leaning toward trimmed and shaped. It was quite the conundrum.

So there I was, standing over the pussy in question with nothing but one thin layer of cloth between me and the answer. I thought I should get something for all this trouble my first night back. I slowly pulled the top of her panties away from her skin and leaned in for a peek. I saw hair but I couldn't see the whole thing. I lifted a little higher for a better look. "What are you doing?" she whined.

I jumped back and nearly shit my pants. The panties snapped back into place. I was white with fear. "Just take them off, Jeff," she whispered. Her eyes were closed.

Jeff? My name is Nick. Jeff is her husband's name. Whoa, hold on a minute, I thought.

"Make love to me, Jeff."

I suddenly realized how hard my cock was. I had no idea what to do. I was frozen in place.

"Come on, Baby, it's my first night back. Don't you want to fuck?" She rolled onto her side and made a blind grab for my belt buckle. She got a hold of my cock instead. She started to squeeze and pull. That didn't feel too fucking good but I made a snap decision to help her out a little. I moved in close and slid out of my pants in between gropes. Mr. Johnson was now free. Even on the edge of consciousness, she knew exactly what she wanted to do with it. She took it in her mouth and I suddenly had a horrible thought. What if in her drunken stupor she dreamed she was eating a carrot or a banana or, God forbid, a dill pickle, and decided to snap off a chunk. All of a sudden I wasn't feeling too comfortable with my snap decision but I bravely soldiered on anyway.

She slobbered all over it for a few minutes then passed out again with her mouth full of my dick. I guessed that she was done for the night so I pulled out. As soon as I did, she regained consciousness. "Just hurry already," she whined, and rolled onto her back. "Fuck me, Goddammit!" She flopped around as she attempted to remove her panties. I stood there and chuckled at the pathetic sight. As soon as they cleared her crotch, I realized that fucking Eddie had been right. Full bush, no question about it. I just knew he would gloat and tell us he told us so, ad nauseam.

Anyone else might have helped her out instead of watching her flail about, tangled up in her own underwear, but I have this rule. If they pull their own panties off, they can't complain later that they were coerced or forced or whatever. It's a clear signal that sex will be happening. At least that's how it plays out in my warped little mind. Okay, sure she was drunk, but that's not my fault. She gets those panties off and thinks I'm her husband, I'm getting some. I wondered for a brief moment at what point my morals had escaped the room. I went from sleeping on the floor to getting a blowjob from some dude's wife in just a couple of minutes. I am so weak.

Finally she got free of her encumbrance. She didn't waste any time, she laid there with her eyes closed and spread her long, sexy legs. "Eat me, Motherfucker!" she screamed.

Okay, a couple of things here. First of all, her filthy mouth was cracking me the fuck up. I wondered if that's how she really approached sex or if it was just the booze talking. Second of all, I was pretty sure this girl had just taken a shit so there was no way I was putting my mouth anywhere near that area. I decided to fake it. I climbed onto the bed and sat on my knees between her legs. I licked two fingers (I was only going to do that once) and used them to massage her clit. I tried to simulate the movements of a tongue. "Mmmmmm..." she moaned. I guessed she was buying it.

I did that for a few minutes but I was eager for the real action. I spread her legs a little wider and went for it. We both moaned as I slid my cock in. She felt great. Her pussy was so warm and wet. I felt her tits through her shirt. I was hesitant to remove her top and bra thinking I'd just have to dress her later and that would just be extra hassle. By the way, there's nothing in my rulebook that says they have to put their own clothes back on.

I'd been working up a pretty good sweat when all of a sudden her eyes pop wide open and we lock pupils for a moment. I thought I was busted. Finally she screams out, "Fuck my cornhole!" At this point I wasn't sure if she meant fuck my cornhole, Jeff, or fuck my cornhole, Nick. Either way, the word cornhole didn't sound too inviting. I know a lot of guys wouldn't hesitate to take her up on it but she'd just taken a shit as far as I knew. The thought of sending Mr. Johnson up the same chute that fecal matter had recently used to escape made me kind of ill.

"What the fuck are you waiting for?" she screamed loud enough for the next county to hear. "Fuck my Goddamn stinky ring!"

I cringed. God this girl was filthy. "Okay, okay. Just quiet down," I said. What could I do? I had to shut her up. I knew I didn't have any lube around and I didn't want to dig through her stuff (I'd feel dirty if I did something like that, you know, invasion of privacy or whatever) so I flipped her over, spread her cheeks and worked it on in without it. By the sounds she was making, she seemed to be enjoying it. And I think she enjoyed it often. It wasn't exactly tight in there if you know what I mean. I have to admit I was kind of enjoying it too.

I was pumping away at a good clip and had a good rhythm going when she screamed at me to stop. This was wacky. A part of me wished it had never happened. I pulled out and sat on my knees to wait for the next command. She turned on her side and scooted toward me. She grabbed my cock and wrapped her lips around it. I was thoroughly disgusted. I almost didn't let her do it but I didn't want her to yell again, so I caved.

It went pretty quick after that. Within seconds of entering her mouth, I blew my load. I don't know why it surprised me that she swallowed it all, but it did. She continued to suck until I was completely limp. "Thanks, Baby," she said and flopped down exhausted. I felt dirty, both mentally and physically. I needed shower.

The shower cleansed my outside, but inside I still felt like shit. I couldn't even look at her lying there naked anymore. The sexy blue thong on the floor didn't seem so sexy anymore either. I was able to get that back on her without too much trouble so I attempted to slip her jeans back on as well, the fewer questions in the morning, the better. I got them all the way on but was having trouble with the buttons. I decided to leave well enough alone. I pulled the sheet and blanket up to her shoulders, kind of tucked her in and turned toward my chair-bed. "Thank you, Nick," she groggily whispered.

"Huh?" I could feel my eyes widen beyond their limits.

"I said thanks."

"For what?" I asked with skepticism.

"Everything."

"Uh... no problem." Shit, I thought as I turned out the light and settled into the chair. What was that all about? What did she know?

I didn't sleep a wink after that. Obviously part of it was because I was sleeping in a chair, but the biggest part was that my brain wouldn't shut down. Had Anna known exactly what she was doing? Maybe she was a nympho and she did this all the time. Is this why Eddie was adamant about her full bush? Maybe the same thing happened to him. Maybe she had some contagious ass disease or something. Fuck, I'm probably going to die now. I'm going to hell at the very least. Fuck. FUCK! But then again, maybe I was just being paranoid. She was probably just thanking me for the ride back and the bed for the night. Yeah, that's got to be it. It's probably not, though. Shit. This was the kind of junk running through my head all night long. There was no way I was getting any sleep now.

****

I awoke to Anna's cell phone playing Ricky Martin's "She Bangs" as a ring tone. I guess I had finally drifted off. The last time I remembered looking at the clock it read 5:09. It was now 8:32. It took her a moment to find the phone. It was idiot-girl, Vicky, saying she'd meet her for breakfast at the diner around the corner from the motel. God, finally. Where the fuck had she been all night?

Anna sat up and smacked her lips, blew into her hand and smelled it. "Ugh. You ever get really bad morning breath?" she asked. "Mine smells like shit."

I couldn't say a word.

"You have any mouth wash?"

"In there." I pointed toward the bathroom. I stayed in the chair. My neck was killing me and I was afraid to move wrong. I'd take it slow once she left.

Anna freshened up, gathered her things and went for the door. She opened it then stopped and turned around. "Thanks again," she said. "I'm sure you had better things to do than baby-sit me your first night back."

"It's cool, I had some fun."

"Good. See you at work later."

I nodded. "Okay."

"Oh, by the way, I left something for you on the sink - just so you'll never be unprepared or anything." And with that she was gone.

I slowly got out of the chair and made my way to the bathroom. When I saw what was on the sink I almost fell over. I picked it up and took a long, hard look at a half-used tube of K-Y Jelly.

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byVinny Smith© 3 comments/ 18033 views/ 0 favorites

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