I don't remember much from last night. Especially the last hour is vague, those last three or four drinks making everything feel all blurred, mashed together in some kind of weird, distorted sequence. But I do remember the way you looked at me. The way that your foot casually grazed mine as we sat together, talking shit to each other and anyone who would listen. The way your hand rested on my knee, and slowly, gingerly, as not to draw too much attention, made its way up under my skirt. I remember how you squeezed my thigh, and how I had to bite the inside of my cheek, wishing you'd close the gap and touch me where I really wanted.
Your girlfriend had always wanted to have a threesome. At least, that's what you told me when you invited me to the rave and the consecutive sleepover. At the rave, however, she seemed distant at first - maybe she had changed her mind. Maybe she wasn't as bicurious as we both believed after all. So it was up to us to get the party going. Whenever I was about to order a new drink, another one seemed to appear out of thin air. And you were never far behind.
But now I’m here, struggling to open my eyes. The bright sunlight filtering through the blinds however is wreaking havoc in my pounding head. I'm disoriented – my own room is never this bright this early. As I move to cover my eyes with an arm in a lame attempt to forget my hungover misery, something shifts behind me. Someone. You.
More fragments of vague memories flood my mind. Loud, booming music, the flashing lights bouncing off of the delicate form of your girlfriend as she moved to the beat. Her soft lips on mine, tongue peaking through, but soon retreating. My hand tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, only to gently rest on her cheek, chin, and neck, moving down to where her mesh shirt ended and the smooth curves of her chest began.
I'm not sure if you're awake. What I do notice is that you're turned towards me, against me, and that your movement made me instantly aware of all that. My breath hitches and I lay perfectly still for a moment, not sure whether I should move away or remain as I am, pretending not to notice your rock-hard presence pressed against my buttcheeks.
Although hazy, I do remember that I've felt you before. Last night, that is. I remember walking back to your apartment, laughing at something you or your girlfriend said. I definitely forgot most of our walk to the cozy void of alcohol, but once we arrived and you were looking for your keys, there was this moment where I just... zoned in. More specifically, on the bulge in your jeans, which I'd noticed countless times before. Where I'd normally bashfully averted my eyes, wondering how big you really were, this night I apparently decided this would be the night I found out. Thinking back, it wasn't all that outrageous, with the implied threesome just about around the corner – not that this was something I really considered at that moment. I just reached out and cupped your junk for a gentle squeeze. You froze for a moment, faltering mid-sentence before you continued talking as if nothing ever happened. I'm not sure if your girlfriend noticed.
Did we ever have that threesome? Maybe. Probably. I'm trying to collect my thoughts and remember what exactly happened after we entered the building, but you're distracting me. I take a deep breath and gently try to make my way toward the edge of the bed, but before I can even move, your arm snakes around my waist.
"Don't."
It's only a whisper, breathed into my hair, but it makes my systems shut down. I sink back into the soft pillow that I'm now sharing with you, my heart hammering against my chest. For a moment we just lay there in relative silence, only disturbed by the song of an early blackbird and the quiet snores of your girlfriend, who I now realise is on your other side. The feeling of your length still pressed against me is maddening. Then, I feel your hand slip under my shirt, tracing the lines of my hips, moving up to gingerly stroke the outline of my breast.
I find it hard to stay quiet. I bite my lip, my eyeballs rolling back behind closed eyes as you reach my nipple, rubbing it until it forms into a tiny ball between your fingers. Involuntarily I twitch, and I can't help but move a little, shifting closer toward your hard-on. With a quiet huff, you clutch my breast and rock your hips into me.
Before we know it, we're moving together. You're biting my neck, and I can feel your hot breath against my skin as you're trying to contain your excitement. I, however, am not as successful. A quiet moan leaves my lips and for a moment the soft snores to your left quiet down. We abruptly stop. I'm trying to slow down my breathing, make it seem like I'm still asleep, and so are you – but I can feel your length twitch between my butt cheeks, only separated by your boxer and my thong. For one long moment, I feel like we are going to get caught. But then we hear some shuffling, a small sigh, and the snoring continues.
The absurdity of the situation is finally getting to me. A smile crooks the corners of my mouth, and I giggle – a sound too loud for our situation, and soon interrupted. Your other hand, the one attached to the arm that had snaked its way under my neck without even noticing, promptly covers my mouth. It doesn't phase me. In fact, I'm kind of into it. To show my approval, I press back harder, rubbing my butt against your dick.
You release a sharp breath. Hand still clasped over my mouth, you pull my head towards you. I feel your hot breath on the side of my neck before you bite down, lick, and suck – apparently intent on leaving a mark. I can't help but moan against your hand. With my lips now parted slightly, your fingers find their way inside my mouth. A feeling of deviousness hits me. My lips close around your fingers, and as I suck on them, my tongue shows you exactly what I would do if I ever had the chance to get down on my knees for you.