The Morning After

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Hangovers aren't always unpleasant.
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Several times I tried to hide my eyes from the bright morning light: first by turning away, then by burying my head into the soft pillow. Eventually I recognized that any further effort would be pointless given the intensity of the star that begins our every day. When my eyes finally did crack open, I awoke to unfamiliar surroundings: the unfinished brick walls of a loft or an apartment that seemed to be well above the ground floor as there were no trees obstructing the sun from piercing through the huge windows. As I began to focus and my orientation began to center, I took notice of the sparsely furnished room, strewn with clothes -- some of them looking familiar as my own. I then detected the pleasant scent of the pillow. Perfumed? Or maybe the person who lives here just smells really, really nice. I was not yet fully aware when a fresh-faced brunette with the tousled hair flashed across the bed on her stomach to arrive just a few inches from my face.

"Oh, hello", I croaked in her direction.

"Good morning, sailor," she giggled. "How did you sleep?"

Sailor?! What the hell did I do last night? "I think I slept pretty well." Oh, crap, did I drool? God, no, please no... My hand scrambled to feel the corner of the pillow where my head had been... whew, no wet spot. "And you?"

"I slept like a dream," she replied, beaming a huge smile that brought as much brilliance as the light outside.

Mmmmmwow you are glorious, I thought. Now... how did I get here?

I rubbed my eyes, yawned, covered my mouth hoping my breath didn't stink like a fraternity bathroom after a hazing, and cranked a disconcerted smile back at her. She stretched her lithe body like a cat, arching her back, rolling over and stretching her legs skyward individually and then wrapping her arms behind her knees to bring them close to her body for a squeeze. As I spectated there was only one thought in my mind: How can I make sure I get here again?

Slowly rolling onto her knees, she unfurled herself on the bed like a time-lapsed film of budding ferns, her eyes half-concealed by the cascade of her mussed shoulder-length mane. She closed them for a moment as her hands glided up her sleek waist and ribs to her shoulders. Transfixed, I watched her fingers slalom back downward caressing her neck, her chest, playfully circling around her full, pouty breasts and across her flat stomach. She turned and with her eyes peering over her shoulder, traced the lines of her body with the tips of her fingernails, exciting her skin and my imagination. Both her hands edged toward her ass, pausing at her tight lobes to squeeze hard enough to leave a momentary hand print, then she lifted from her knees slightly and parted her cheeks subtly exposing her tender pussy. And with a playful smack on her left cheek, she flung the comforter up and dove under it.

It floated down over her like a falling snow with her grin, as knowing as the Cheshire Cat, the last thing to disappear. She burrowed between my legs. I felt both her hands caress my thighs and slide softly, slowly upwards. The blanket lifted slightly and I could see her shadowed grinning face peering toward me with my cock cupped in her hands.

It was beginning to come back to me... I had arrived in town yesterday to meet her. We had met online months before, and had discovered over time that we had a lot in common, so much so that we took a chance on meeting. At first it had been awkward -- I mean how does one start a conversation with someone you've already seen naked and had virtual sex with? It's not like you can start with "hi, what's your name?" But she was really smart - not all that surprising given how much she had intrigued and beguiled me in our online conversations and email exchanges. To her credit, she had scheduled us to attend a party where we could both relax and get comfortable. We would be among her friends, in familiar surroundings where she wouldn't feel any pressure. She could just sit back and observe how I handled the situation, and inject herself when and where she felt comfortable. Fortunately for me, she must have felt very comfortable as we giggled, cavorted, snarked, touched and canoodled through much of the evening. The last thing I remembered was some sort of drinking game where I lost count of how many I had... and then everything after just dissolved into fog. I had never been drunk before, but given my current situation I wondered why I had wasted so many years avoiding it.

She gently licked my soft penis like a soft-serve ice cream cone, first swirling her tongue around it and then gave it a long, sensual lick toward the head, finishing with a playful flick of her tongue.

"Wow, that's umm... very... very nice," I stuttered.

"I love how heavy it feels in my hand. It feels like a fresh pork tenderloin," she purred.

"I thought you didn't eat meat," I replied.

"I eat some," she smirked before sucking the head into her mouth, and pushing it out again with a playful tongue lashing. "And I love how soft it feels against my face," as she rubbed the shaft against her cheek and across her chin and mouth, gently kissing it as it passed over her lips.

She again sucked the head into her mouth, and then lifted her face, slowly stretching my cock with only her suction holding it, momentarily, before relenting and letting it flop between my legs. She wrapped her fingers gently around it and slowly moved her hands up and down.

"I have to admit I don't remember much about last night," I gritted, trying to contain the pleasure.

"Oh really? Do you remember this?" With that she swallowed my awakening cock completely, tongued my balls and then out again with a little teary-eyed cough.

"Mmmm, I'm, ummm, I think, ummm, did it go something like this?" and I grabbed her hair and thrust myself quickly back into her mouth. She opened her throat wide and let me slide in as far as I could go. I began slowly fucking her mouth. Every several thrusts, she would choke out my cock, covered with the slimy spit of her deep throat, stroking it fast and hard until her hands were covered in her spit. She cupped and fondled my balls, squeezing and pulling them, then smoothed her viscous drool all over them like she was oiling focaccia dough. And as the spit began to dribble down and tickle my ass, she began to play with it, manually urging me to lift my pelvis closer to her face. She then slipped the tip of her finger into my ass.

"Mmm, I don't remember that."

"You will," she gagged.

She sucked harder while stroking and creeping her finger deeper into my ass. She pulled it out only to press the issue with two lubricated fingers.

"Umm, I defff-" I could not continue my thought as she sucked down my entire cock, squeezed my balls with one hand and pushed the two invading fingers knuckle deep into my ass. As her head bobbed up and down, she started to wiggle her fingers, steadily stroking inside me with a 'come here' motion. With each stroke of my prostate, I could feel the precum oozing out of my dick into her mouth and my testes surging to fill the vacated space with hot, thick cum. Soon they began to ache from the fullness inside them.

"Excuse me, miss... but you appear... to have me... at a... disadvantage. It's... my... turn." And with that I lifted up onto my hands, tucked my legs under me and then pushed her onto her back, pinning her face with my pelvis, shoving my cock deeper down her throat. Her head bounced against the bed and with each thrust she grabbed my ass with both hands pulling me harder towards her. Before I reached the point of no return, I pulled out and sprang from the bed. She was just about to turn over onto her stomach to follow my movement but I was able to pin her shoulders back on the bed and pull her to the edge, where I pushed my cock back into her mouth and continued deep-fucking her throat with her glorious figure laying before me.

I loved looking at her painted body. It was like she was wearing an ancient oriental silk screen as a body stocking. So intricate, so exquisite. I had long dreamed of tracing my fingers along her tattoos, along the branches of the tree, stopping to admire each leaf and blossom with a gentle kiss, down each spine of the feather that adorned her thigh and through the tracery on her calves. And so I did. Her skin tasted better than I could have imagined with the slightest hint of berries and salt. At the end of my tour, there in front of my face was her spotless shaven pussy. As much as I loved her body art, her pussy was like the eye of a hurricane: peaceful, calm, serene in its nakedness. I softly kissed the mound and gently touched my lips around her perfect hooded clit. I felt her body tense for a moment and then relax as I continued with my tongue along her pussy lips. She didn't protest when I withdrew from her mouth and repositioned myself to better tease her with the tip of my tongue. She tensed again when I gently embraced her clit between my warm wet lips and let my tongue flutter over it, only to ease her body deeper into the bed when I relented. It was then it dawned on me where I had gotten the nickname "sailor": diving face first into a crevice that was now very wet. Well, I thought to myself, 'Sailor' is a hell of a lot better than 'Abalone'. What the hell!?... concentrate, idiot! Now is not the time to guffaw at one of your own stupid jokes. Not with a mouth full of labia.

My tongue danced around her pussy, purposefully switching cadence and pressure whenever she seemed close to a conclusion. She urged me not to stop again and again, and each time I would continue, but tantalizing her at a slightly slower pace, stretching the pleasure for as long as she could bear... teasing... titillating... tormenting. As her juice began to flow and her moans more persistent, I slipped two fingers inside and began to slowly push in and out. I continued the delicious torture until she surrendered what I had been campaigning for: a tremble in her thighs, then a shudder. One of her hands grasped the sheets tightly and the other flailed for my head, grabbing my hair as if she was grappling for a lifeline. Her hips bucked and her thighs squeezed my skull as tightly as a vice. I gently blew cool air onto her drenched pussy, slowly broke free of her grasp and pushed myself onto my knees.

Our eyes glinted with depraved hunger. "I have something for you," I affirmed. I lifted her legs over my thighs, then inched closer with one hand clenched at the base of my cock. I drew close enough to rub the head along her pussy lips, teasing her with its thick, warm head. Her eyes and faced softened submissively and her mouth relaxed open into an "O". With a nod from her, I inched closer, lifting her legs upward and closer to her head so her ass was barely off the bed. I then guided my cock to lie on top of her pussy, the shaft straddling her wet opening. Her eyes closed like a weeping saint as I moved my hips back and forth, my shaft sliding over her swollen slit.

She softly uttered, "Sir, I believe you have me at a disadv-" and before she could finish her sentence I pushed my cock inside her in a slow, determined thrust as deep as it would go. She gasped at first but as I slowly withdrew she pulled me back, urging more. Without taking the head out, I pushed back in slightly and started pumping in a slow steady rhythm. We both sighed simultaneously and smiled at the coincidence. Our eyes met in a deepening, intensifying fire and remained locked despite the expression changes with each variance of pace and depth. Time jumped to light speed as our bodies withdrew and merged time and again, each instance more delicious from the last like a never-ending sampler table at a big city restaurant week. I did not want to wait for the post-coital cuddle so I guided one of her legs across me so that she was lying on her side and I eased myself to lay behind her, caressing her soft skin, kissing her shoulder, neck and then earlobe while continuing to gently thrust inside her.

I again felt the rush of impending orgasm so I clenched the base of my cock, withdrew it from her cream-oozing pussy and slapped it against her lips and clit. The slight sting surprised and excited her and she encouraged me to continue. After regaining control, I pushed back inside her and began to thrust more vigorously and urgently. Her moans grew louder and more desperate. I was struggling to control myself so I paused, lifted her to her knees, my hands holding her hips firmly and began pounding her from behind in a standing squat. She rubbed her clit and aimed her groans into the pillow she was now biting. Governed by instinct alone, I covered my finger with a mix of my spit and her juice and pushed it into her tight little bunghole. Her moans devolved into the guttural, animal-like sounds that humans made before they had invented language. Her legs quivered as she began making pleas to God. I did not want to live another moment if I missed seeing her face when she succumbed so I flipped her onto her back, and standing on my knees, bent over to wrap her around arms around my neck, her legs around my waist and then lifted her aloft, my hands gripping her ass for the final stretch. After a few deep thrusts that felt like I was penetrating her lungs, she convulsed and her body clenched tightly around mine with wave after wave of "yes". My thrusts became increasingly more deliberate. Her squeaks and soft cries became more and more diminished before she finally relaxed in a long, breathless moan of release.

Moments later I could no longer control myself. I grunted, "I'm gonna cum."

"Spray me." She released me from her embrace, dropped to her knees and in less than a millisecond was jerking my cock like a piston. She stroked with one hand, occasionally dipping the head into her mouth for a hard suck or a quick tongue tease on the head, while her other hand dug into my ass with two fingers, pressing my prostate for more juice.

"Oh fuck, I'm gonna cum, oh fuck ohfuckohfuck."

"mmmm fuck yeah, give it to me" she commanded through clenched teeth.

I began to shudder, my body jerked violently when the first stream of jism shot out across her chin and dribbled onto her chest. The pained expression on my face disguised the extreme pleasure I was feeling, so intense that it hurt. A knot of sound rose from my thighs and rushed up through my body to explode as a loud "uhhHHHH". With each thick spurt of white goo my body twitched sharply, announced with another primordial bellow "uhhnn". She added a syncopated chorus of "oh fuck", "yes baby" and "that's it, give it to me" between each jet before I begged like a simpering child for her to lighten her stroke. She milked the last of my cum to the end of my cock, a dew drop on the tip, then licked it off with a satisfied grin and yowled "dayum, boy". I collapsed to the bed, unable to restrain a huge smile and a deep chesty laugh. She eased herself onto my chest, running her hand through the wiry hair there, caressing me, kissing me.

As we lay on the bed exhausted, sweaty, giggling, covered in cum and trying to keep my heart from going into mild cardiac arrest, I summoned up the courage to ask the question... "um, what actually did happen last night?"

"In bed? Nothing. After a few drinks you were talking about what a good cook you were and made the claim that you could cook something that would make me cum just from the taste. So you spent the last part of the party in the kitchen cooking... which was a bit weird because it was someone else's kitchen. We have to go to the grocery store today to repay back all the food of theirs you cooked."

"After just a few drinks? God, I'm a moron... what did I make?"

"Well, the first thing was something called Chicken Rolando."

"And? Was it good?"

"You're here, aren't you?"

"I guess I am. Wait, then how did I get the nickname, Sailor?"

"That came after all the food... and you don't wanna know. Y'know, you probably shouldn't drink."

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