The Morning After

"Look, I lost. You got me. I was flattered by you. I liked you."

"Liked?"

"You're wearing on me a little now, honestly."

"Am I?" I sit back. My sweaty shirt sends another shiver over me. The dampness of it is cold against my skin.

She uncrosses and crosses her legs. My eyes dart to the place between them, and I don't get a view. I sigh.

"Look." She drinks her coffee. "I'm going back to bed. You can come and rest up, leave this afternoon, evening, or tomorrow. I don't care. You don't have permission to touch me. Consent withdrawn. I'm tired." She stands and walks back to the kitchen. I sit for a moment, trying to decide what to do. My mind is jumbled, and I can't think straight. Whilst the rooms are bright, everything seems dull. I drain my coffee and walk into the kitchen as she's emptying the cafeteire into the bin.

"A courgette. I didn't do anything?"

"I'm not eating it, but you didn't put in yourself. Don't worry about it."

I cringe again and place my mug in the sink before taking it back out. I feel my stomach churning, and I close my eyes. I'm dazzled by the brightness as I open them again. "Where's the bleach? I'll clean your sink for you?"

"I'll do it, don't worry. I'll do it later. Let's go back to bed."

"What time is it?" I ask out loud, then look at the chunky men's Tag Heuer watch on my wrist. It's still early, 9.32 a.m.

"Do you want to take any water up?" She smiles at me.

"Do you usually walk around naked in front of your guests?"

"Not usually. You're different, though."

"How?"

"Really? You're asking me how you're different from other guests. Well, they don't usually have a close-up view of my pussy, nor do they usually have a tongue up it. I've got nothing you haven't seen or haven't eaten."

I turn red and feel ashamed. At least she seems OK, though. I like her. I turn and take the glass I'd used earlier. A thick, slimy imprint of my bottom lip has moulded to the glass, and I ignore it as I fill it with water before following her up the stairs. I go to the bedroom, put the glass on the bedside table, and lie on the bed as she goes to the bathroom. I cover my eyes with my arm and drift off.

I'm a little irritated to be shaken awake. "Hey, hey, sorry."

"What!" My head is now pounding full throttle.

"That's my side, and I've put makeup remover on the side of the bath; there is a new toothbrush on the sink and a fresh towel on the bath if you want a shower. Help yourself to anything, but not my razor, please."

"Thanks." I turn to sit on the edge of the bed and hold my head in my hands. After a moment, I look up and see her standing before me. "Wow, consent withdrawn?" I confirm,

her silhouette is stunning.

"That's what I said."

I'm disappointed, but to be honest, I'm too ill to do anything anyway.

She holds a hand out, and I take it for her to help pull me up.

"Clammy." She giggles and wipes her palm on her thigh.

"Want a hand?"

"To do what?"

"Get undressed."

"I think I can manage, thank you."

She smiles at me. "You truly are beautiful. I wonder what you're like when you're not grouchy."

"Grouchy. For fucks sake." I mutter miserably as I walk across the landing towards the bathroom. It's dark, it's nicely decorated, but I couldn't describe the colours, browns and beiges I think. I ping the string chord for the light, and I'm dazzled again. My eyes burn, and my head pounds. I close the wooden panelled door behind me. Nice bathroom, looks Victorian. I look at my reflection in the mirror. "Fuck, she said I was gorgeous. She needs her eyes tested."

My liner has become clumpy, my lipstick has disappeared, and the makeup on my cheekbones is patchy. "I look like a zombie." I pick up the Colgate toothbrush, unbox it, and grab her toothpaste from the cup on the ledge to brush my teeth. The minty freshness makes my mouth ten times better from the puke and last night's pussy I'd eaten.

A small pile of cotton pads and makeup remover was left for me on the bath's side; ten minutes later, I was plain Jane. I strip, turn on the shower and stand under the hot water. I feel temporarily sober and immediately nicer. I use her shampoos and gels to wash with. The orange towel is big and soft. I feel comforted by it as I continue drying on my way to the bedroom and sit naked on her bed to dry my hair.

"Feel better?"

"Thank you. A lot. You've looked after me well. You should be a nurse?"

She giggles, "Really?"

"Definitely, you're kind and patient. I've been rude and unfairly mean. I'm sorry for puking in your sink."

"Nothing I haven't dealt with before."

"You said I was your first. First one-night stand, first to puke in your sink."

"Yes, you are. But I deal with a lot worse on the wards."

"You are a nurse. That makes sense."

"No, I'm a consultant."

"Are you?"

"Want me to show you my qualifications?"

I laugh. "No. So you didn't think I was drunk last night?"

"Drunk, yes, I knew you were. I thought you were still competent and didn't think you were blacked out. Do you need to talk to somebody?"

"Here we go. I don't know you. You are a one-night stand; you are nothing more to me than that. Stop trying to treat me, will you?"

"Fine, sorry, I'll stop." She goes quiet. The duvet is pulled back, and just her feet are under it. I can see why I fancied her, or rather still fancy her. "I won't say anymore. Look don't wake me if I'm asleep when you decide to leave; you're nice. You're beautiful, and you can do better." She smiles at me, its sweet as her lips curl nicely, forcing me to smile back.

I feel awful for talking to her like that. "I'm sorry, again. In fact, it's you. You can do better than me. Than this. You're certainly not one-night stand quality. You are much better than that."

She smiles back. "One-night stand quality! Really? Do you know how that sounds? Anyway, I know. And it's you that's lucky. You should realise that for yourself. You're my first one-night stand, and I'd like this to end not being a one-night stand. I've told you already. I've told you what I want. Rest assured, I won't shed tears over you, I'll be disappointed if you just disappear, but you aren't worth my tears. Not yet." She smiles again and forces another smile from me. "There are shorts and a shirt over there if you want to wear them?" She sweeps her hair back and moves down the bed. "Night, beautiful." She says smoothly and covers herself with the duvet. I look at where she lies. I feel glad I don't have a pet bunny at home.

I pull the shorts and shirt on and climb into bed.

I wake up sweaty. My head hurts, and my mouth is dry. I lean over to take my glass of water and sip it. It goes down uneasily, and I put the glass back, but my hand is shaky. I feel the water curdle in my stomach, and I feel sick, but I try to hold it down.

I look for her; she's asleep, breathing quietly beside me, and her right arm hugs me. I don't want to disturb her; I play with her fingers. They're soft and delicate; her nails are polished but no colour. I stroke her arm and interlock my fingers with hers. I don't usually hold hands; I can't remember the last time I did. Susan, five years ago, maybe. God, Susan. I feel pain when I think of her. Women, you can't trust them; after six years of love and engagement, I thought we were happy; she was my world. I look at the woman lying next to me, why is she so lovely? She doesn't know me; I stare back up at the ceiling.

My tongue slides into a mouth and twists around another tongue. I lie there kissing for a moment, enjoying it, until I realise it's real. I wake up and open my eyes, her hand slides up my face. I kiss her back, my hand resting on her waist, and I suddenly pull back. "Consent?" I whisper.

"Huh"

"Consent withdrawn, you said. You made it obvious." I feel honest, at least for stopping. If I wasn't hungover, I would've taken advantage, but it wouldn't have been fair, not on her.

"Oh, sorry. I think I was asleep. I'm sorry." She moves back away from me. I reach for her hand, taking it in mine, and I hold it.

"It's OK." I smile at her.

Daylight pours in around the curtains; it's dazzling, leaving the rest of the room dark and blurry. My eyes struggle to adjust; it's either too bright or too dark. "What time is it?" I say as I lift my wrist, I see it's half twelve. My head still pounds.

"Well?"

"What?"

"The time? You asked and checked but didn't say."

"Half twelve."

"I haven't had a lie in like this for ages. How are you feeling?"

"Not great."

"Sorry."

"What for?"

"How you feel. You can sleep or go, its up to you, but I'm making the most of this."

"What?"

"This." She moves closer to me and puts her arm back around me. I start to think, who's the creepier of us. Me, for pulling a one-night stand every week, or her, for clinging onto a one-night stand she's only just met. Honestly, though, I do like it. The comfort and her easy-going niceness. I lie there listening to her sleep, trying to stop the contractions of my headache.

I must have drifted off, I feel a little better as I wake up. I check my watch; its quarter to six. I sit on the edge of the bed and realise I'm alone. I go and open the curtains and look across the railway track and a city view. I watch a train pass, and I can clearly see the faces of the passengers as the modern train slowly creeps along on the Victorian tracks.

I drink the rest of my water and leave the room to go to the bathroom, but I hear her showering. My clothes are in there. I'm not sure if I should hang around or go, but I can't leave naked. I go back to her bedroom and open her wardrobe. Smart suits hang on heavy hangers, dresses, and ball gowns hang next to them. Shoes of various styles and colors are on their own, separated in their individual boxed-off racks, with levels coordinated for each style. I close the doors and go back to bed. Her room is pale blue and pale yellow; it's bright, a chrome light sits in the centre of the ceiling, and a small crack flows down from the corner of one of the walls by the door. The bathroom door unclicks, and she saunters in.

An orange bath sheet is wrapped around her body from her chest to her thighs. Her wet blonde hair hangs in flat straight strips; the wetness makes it shine and appear darker. "I was surprised you were still here when I awoke."

I nod. "I almost left just now, but my clothes were in the bathroom."

"I saw. How are you feeling?"

"A little more human now, thank you."

She smiles at me.

"Thanks for letting me stay; I'm sorry about your sink."

"No harm. I've been up and cleaned it already. I guess you want to go, but on the off chance you have no plans, you could stay. Watch Netflix, get a pizza with me. We could get to know each other like names, that sort of thing. I'd like to know who's fucked me. I'm strange like that."

I look at my watch; it's gone ten to six. "I guess the days passed us by already. I'll be going home to an empty house."

"What about your friends?"

I laugh. "I've probably ten, maybe fifteen tops."

"They close?"

"Two or three."

"See them often?"

I shrug. "I used to."

"Used to?"

"Yeah. I get... never mind."

"No, tell me. I'm listening."

I look around the room, I look at her, tall and angelic. She unties her towel and appears naked. I smile, "Oh God."

"Sorry." She turns her back.

"Doesn't help you know."

She turns back around.

"Why are you so clingy with me?"

"You find me clingy? I'm sorry." Her face looks concerned.

I feel uncomfortable for telling her. "It was sex, and now you are turning me into your girlfriend."

"I don't usually have sex unless it is with a girlfriend. Usually, I date, then decide if I like you enough to have sex with. With you, I'm going back to the front. I like you, and if I make you uncomfortable, I apologise. I've not kept you against your will. I didn't expect to see you when I woke, but you're still here, and I'm pleased. I'm probably the best chance you have of sorting your life out and settling down, that's if you want to. If you don't, we can both move on, but at least I know I gave it my best. Other girls may just see you leave, but, I'm not other girls. I've been on maybe seven or eight dates in three months, and you are the first person I've had sex with. With no date. And since my ex."

We look at each other in silence as she dries her legs and thighs. In truth, I don't want to leave, she's kind and considerate, she likes me.

"You were saying your friends, then never mind?"

I look at the floor. My eyes well at the thought of her. "Susan, I was with her for years. She left, and now, I think it is why I drink. Slowly, because of my behaviour, my friends have dwindled, they were her friends really, I stopped my side of life for her. I miss her. That's it in a nutshell."

"OK, you can't get her back?"

"No. She's straight and with a man now. She left me for him."

She sits on the bed and puts a hand on my knee. "How is what you are doing helping you?"

"It's not." I cry. "It's not."

"OK. I can put you in touch with a friend if you like? They're better qualified to help than me. It's there if you need it, if you're my friend, they'll be more than happy to help."

"Is this blackmail?" I choke a little as I say it.

"No. I'm not blackmailing you."

I reach up and dry my tears on the back of my hand. "I haven't cried in years."

"It's OK, let it out." She squeezes my knee and I squeeze her hand. I turn my head and go to kiss her. Her lips are so kissable, her eyes so blue.

"No. You're upset. I'm not taking advantage."

I feel empty, and there's a sudden thud in my chest. I take a deep breath and hope it's not a panic attack. I breathe through my nose and try not to panic. She must have noticed as she drops in front of me. Her hands on my shoulders. "It's OK. Breathe. Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth. Deep breaths."

After a few deep breaths, breathing with her, I feel my heart return to normal. A false alarm. I look at her tits. "Please, cover up." I look at her face; it's bright, cheerful, and patient.

She smiles, "Sorry. No eating pizza naked together, then?"

"No." I laugh. "Tearing a triangle and watching red tomato and cheese stretch..."

"...OK. I get the picture." She smirks as she opens a drawer and pulls out a vest and jogging bottoms. She closes the drawer and puts the bottoms on the bed and pulls the vest on. It's figure hugging tight, her nipples press at the ribbed fabric. She picks the bottoms back up and shakes them, then elegantly, she slides each leg in before pulling them up.

"Seriously, you may as well be naked." Her every curve, and I mean every curve is pronounced. The round of her buttocks to the bulge of her pussy. I close my eyes for a second, imprinting her magnificent image onto the insides of my eyelids. My eyes stay closed until the image fades.

She laughs. "Want a set, there's more in there if you do. I'm going downstairs."

I watch her, in her tight top and purple jogging bottoms, walk out of the room. I go over to the drawers and open them. It's tidy, with several vests neatly folded on the left and a dozen bottoms on the right. I grab a top, and grey bottoms and quickly change from the shorts and t shirt she'd earlier leant me to sleep in. The bottoms looked three-quarter length on her, stopping just below the knee; they go to my ankle on me.

I go downstairs and into the lounge. She's sitting quietly, doing nothing on the single-seater with her legs crossed over the arm of it, her feet bouncing a little. They look soft and cute, her toenails are painted white. I look away and about the room.

It's immaculately laid out, two fabric brightly coloured single seaters, the one she's seated in is bright pink, with a pale pink tubing and a matching footstool. There's a matching mustard seat with coloured buttons, and her sofa is red. The room is white, with a TV on the wall, a small speaker, and a glass coffee table.

I feel her watching me, and I look at her. "OK?" She smiles.

"I've realised, I haven't seen my phone or my purse."

"OK, I paid for the cab last night, and so we didn't have it there and you brought drinks in the bar, though I never saw you with your phone. My phone is in the kitchen; if you go and grab it, I'll unlock it for you to use?"

"Thanks. Are you OK?"

She nods with a smile. "I'm perfect, enjoying the silence. Do you like silence?"

"I'm not sure I do. I start thinking."

"About?

I shrug. "Just things. Don't you?"

"Sometimes. I like to think, I work in a hospital, it's always noisy. So if I can get a chance to sit quietly and let my mind wander, I do."

I smile. "Sounds nice. Do you want me to go?"

"No, not particularly. But I won't stop you."

"What you thinking about now?"

"Nothing much. I'm content, really. You, I suppose." She sits up and brings her feet to the floor. "Shall I get my phone?"

"No, it's OK. I'll go." I walk to the kitchen and see her phone on the table and pick it up. I press the home button, and the lock screen appears of her smiling with a woman, an attractive brunette in a light pink trouser suit. It looks like it was a garden party or a wedding, some sort of celebration. She's wearing a long pink dress and has a flower garland in her French plaited hair, they smile and hold each other closely. I wait for it to disappear and walk back to the lounge. She holds out her hand, and I pass the phone to her, but she holds my wrist with the other and slides her hand down to my fingers. I watch her as she unlocks her phone, and she hands it back.

I dial my number. The phone goes straight through to voicemail. "Shit!"

"What?" She looks concerned.

"It's gone to voicemail."

"That's no good."

"No." I go and look out the window onto the railway tracks. "How far is the club from here?"

"About a fifteen minute walk."

"Will it be open?"

"We could try? Are you going to walk?"

"I haven't got any money for a cab, and if it's in lost property, it's best to go down so they can see my face on the driving licence."

"OK."

"I'll go and get changed." A sadness appears in my heart as I feel this is it, I'm finally going.

"Oh, why?" Her demeanour changes and her shoulders sink. "I thought we were going to stay in?"

"But if I leave now, I might as well head home."

"To your empty house and a bottle of wine. Here you've got company, I'm not that bad am I?"

"No, you aren't?"

"So." She shrugs. "Look, let's see if I have spare trainers. What size are you?"

"I don't know." I look at my feet and hers. "A five, maybe."

"OK. Mine are seven."

"Too big! Look, try them. I'll walk with you. We'll come back, order pizza, and then see where the night takes us."

"I'll try them. OK." I feel a slight relief I'm not leaving her, not just yet anyway.

She goes off and soon returns with two pairs of pristine-looking trainers.

"Have you ever worn those?"

"Yes, why?"

"They're immaculate."

"I look after my stuff, that's all. Try these on." She hands me a brown pair of New Balance and slides hers into a white pair of Nikes.

"How do they feel?"

"A bit big." I take a couple of steps in them, and she laughs.

"I'm sorry, they're not too bad. Come on." She picks her phone and key up and disappears again returning with a little shoulder bag that she puts her phone and key in. She puts the bag strap over her head and shoulder so it hangs on her opposite waist as we leave the flat together. Downstairs in the street, I let her lead the way and watch her. I gaze at her arse and legs, she's certainly a sexy woman. She's kind and nice too. She's a bit weird, but I can cope with that. She stops and turns around, collecting her blond hair in her left hand; she slides a black bobble from her wrist and ties her hair into a ponytail. Her chest sticks out, and her figure is obvious, she's fit. She smiles at me. "Checking me out, were you?"