A shaft of bright sunlight stung my eyes when I opened them. I turned my face away from it and blinked around the strange bedroom. My head ached and my shoulder was stiff as if I had slept with my arm twisted under me. I was naked under a sheet on a queen bed. I searched my memory of where I was and how I got here.

It all came back to me when she came into the room, carrying a tray with two mugs of coffee and a plate of Danish, and put it on the bedside table. Her dressing gown was nearly transparent and showed the outline of her body, like a nude statue in a fog.

She was tall and skinny, so thin her thighs didn’t meet at the top. Her hair was wavy and yellow in the morning light and her skin was white as a bathtub. She smiled and said, “Good morning.”

I mumbled “Good morning” and raised myself to lean against the headboard. I could smell the coffee. It almost made me salivate, but first I had to pee. I found my shorts tangled in the sheet at the foot of the bed and pulled them on under the sheet. As I headed for the open bathroom door I felt as embarrassed as a schoolgirl caught with her hand in her panties.

I recalled the previous night, and the party, a singles mixer hosted by the apartment complex where my friend Steve lived. He invited me and I went, hoping to get lucky. I had no luck, though, although I mixed with enthusiasm and talked with several women.

Then Steve appeared with two women, a young attractive one with long black hair and eager blue eyes, and a tall mousey blond who could have been old enough to be her mother. Steve introduced me to them, but that morning my hung-over brain couldn’t remember their names.

The four of us ended up in Steve’s one-bedroom apartment to continue the party. I remembered Steve taking me aside and whispering, “You gotta go. Take her home.”

“What the fuck?” I said. “I can’t drive. I can barely walk. I’ll crash on the couch.”

“No, you can’t. She won’t fuck with her friend here. You two gotta go!”

I recalled how angry I had been. Not only had Steve got the hot girl, he tossed me out in the cold.

I flushed, threw cold water on my face, dried off, and went back to the bedroom. She was sitting on the edge of the bed eating a lemon Danish and smiling.

We had left Steve’s last night and walked here to her apartment in another building. She had invited me to stay and I accepted, fearing if I got stopped by the cops driving home I would be in a world of trouble.

I figured I would crash on her couch until I was sober enough to drive home. She insisted that I sleep in her bed.

“Don’t be silly,” she had said. “That couch is uncomfortable.”

I had followed her into the bedroom. The walls were pink and the furniture was pale oak. While she was in the bathroom I stripped to my shorts and climbed into bed. She came out wearing a sheer shorty nightgown and panties and got in next to me.

I wanted desperately to sleep but she wanted to talk. I couldn’t be rude; after all, she had offered me a place to crash when my pussy-blind so-called friend chucked me out. Besides, she had been kind to me and I thought she was a nice person.

We had exchanged most of the small talk already, so there wasn’t a lot to say in bed. I pretended to listen to her chatter, but my eyes were heavy. I yawned.

“Do you want to have sex?” she cooed.

I didn’t.

“I’m really bushed,” I said, “and I’ve had too much to drink.”

She reached under the sheet and rubbed my limp cock. She tugged at my shorts. “Why don’t you take this off,” she said. When I didn’t move, she sat up and stripped them off. She cuddled next to me and continued caressing my cock.

I looked at her sad brown eyes, the wrinkles at the corners dark in the light from a bedside lamp. I thought she was the last woman I would want to fuck, but my cock had a different idea. I felt it swelling under her gentle touch.

She kissed me then and it wasn’t too bad. She pulled the nightie over her head and I looked at her tits. They were small, pointed like a young girl’s, and the nipples were erect and almost red. She pulled her panties down and wiggled out of them.

“I don’t have a condom,” I said, hoping she would give up and let me sleep.

She twisted around and opened the drawer in the bedside table and took out a condom.

She showed it to me and grinned. “I do,” she said.

Then she pulled the sheet back and went down on me.

I said, “You don’t have to do that.”

“But I want to,” she said, and took all of my half-hard cock in her hot mouth. It felt good.

She wasn’t pretty and she wasn’t ugly, just somewhere in between. I felt sorry for her. I had turned her down when she first asked, but she persisted. Now her mouth was convincing my cock. I guessed she really needed to fuck. She didn’t appeal to me, but I felt like I was out of excuses and couldn’t refuse.

It wasn’t a great blowjob, but it did the trick. I was fully erect and she put the condom on me.

I leaned over and put my mouth on her left nipple. It felt like a pebble to my tongue. She moaned. She pulled roughly at my cock and I winced.

“Sorry,” she said. She pulled me toward her and lay back and spread her legs wide. It’s a real turn on when I woman wants it that bad. I climbed aboard. She reached down and guided my rigid dick into her pussy. She was very wet and it slid in easily. We began to move, tentatively at first, and more seriously as her cunt relaxed, letting me get all in.

She dug her fingers into my back and then she grabbed my ass and pulled me tight to her, as though she wanted my cock even deeper. She thrust her pelvis frantically, much faster than I was pumping her. I stopped.

“Take it easy. We’ll get there, just move with me,” I whispered.

She nodded and bit her lip. She clutched my head and neck as I started to thrust again. She caught the rhythm and moved with me. I thought we were doing pretty good for the first time, almost as good as if we did it together all the time.

 I didn’t feel anything for her, the way you do when you’re fucking someone you care about, but as pure animal sex, it was all right.

I thought of Steve and the young hot girl. Was he fucking her now? I wanted to be fucking her, not this woman, but it occurred to me that the young one might not be good in bed, and this one surprised me.

With the latex sheaf between us, and the dopey effect the alcohol had on my system, I knew it was going to take a lot of pumping to get my nut. She didn’t seem to mind. She pressed her mouth into my neck and whimpered and I felt her pussy clenching. She was coming. I was nowhere near.

“You want to stop a minute?” I asked.

She shook her head. “No, no. Don’t stop.”

I pumped a little faster and she wrapped her slender legs around me and dug her fingers into my ass cheeks. I felt her warm juice soaking my balls.

“Yes!” she squealed, as she came again.

It must have been two a.m. by then, and I was tiring fast, but I wanted to come. I stopped to catch my breath. She stroked my back and squeezed her legs tighter around my waist.

“Did you come?” she asked. She sounded disappointed.

“Not yet. Just resting.”

“Oh. Okay.”

I rested my chin on her bony shoulder. She began stroking my hair. I rose up on my arms and started moving again, easing my cock in and out of her pussy and listening to the wet sounds it made. I felt her tremble as I moved a little faster.

Suddenly she stiffened and cried out. It excited me, caused me to pound her harder. She ground her pussy against me and came again and again, her cries shrieking in my ears as I finally came in a huge gush.

I fell limp next her, my pulsing cock still in her. She tousled my hair and smiled.

“My god, my god, that was sooo good,” she said.
 
“Uh-huh. It was.”

She shook her head. “My god, so good.” She moaned softly and sighed.

I rolled off her. She grabbed a fistful of tissues from the bedside table. She passed me a couple and stuffed the rest in her crotch. I used one to pull off the condom. It was heavy as a sandbag. She took it from me and went into the bathroom. I fell asleep and didn’t see her again until she brought the coffee that morning.

So I drank coffee and wolfed down two Danish and couldn’t wait to get out of there. She was a nice woman and she wasn’t coyote ugly. I wasn’t sorry we fucked, even though she was not my type.

As I looked at her and recalled the night, I wondered if having a "type" holds me back from having more sex. Or pretty good sex. I decided to rethink it.

“You want to take a shower?” she said.

“No. I better get going.”

“Let me give you my phone number.”

“Sure. I’ll call you,” I said.

I don't know why, but I never did.