The morning after

1505 Words
Sunlight streaming in her windows woke Clarissa up. Squinting at the bright light, she sat up and stretched languidly.  She felt sore and yet, oddly satisfied.  She turned to the sleeping man next to her. In the bright morning light, he was just as handsome, if not more.  His features were etched sharply, his cheekbones so sharp that it looked like it could slice her hand open. His thick dark lashes rested on his cheeks while his thick, dark hair fall charmingly over his forehead.  She was tempted to bury her hands in his hair and bury her face in his smooth, hairless and muscled chest. Nick was athletic and muscled too but seemed to pale in comparison to this man.  She think back to the many ways they had copulated last night and blushed while a frisson of desire snaked down to her belly. Her wanton clit started to throb, as if remembering his gentle moist assault on it with his hands and tongue last night.  She crossed her bare legs and pressed them closed, admonishing herself for her seemingly insatiable appetite. She was starting to get damp.  “If you stare at me any longer, I might have to take you again,” his deep voice broke her reverie.  His eyes had opened and it was cloudy with desire. She noticed his member, already painfully hard and erect. He grabbed her hands and put it on him. “See, what did you do…” he muttered and groaned in pleasure as her hands closed around his girth.  “Oh…you are so hard…” she gasped and felt desire stirred within her. She bent and gave him a tentative lick. He groaned and bucked, his shaft pulsing beneath her lips.  She felt her privates clenching and unclenching, remembering his hard thick shaft thrusting into her, stretching her moist wet channel, filling her to the brim. “My turn,” she whispered and closed her lips around his shaft, taking him deep inside, almost to her throat.  He groaned and buried his hands in her hair, pushing her head down, thrusting deep into her throat.  She licked and sucked, circling his length, moving up and down till he was so hard, it was as if he was about to burst. Almost growling, he pulled her up, gripped her hims, angled her above him and thrust into her as she straddled him. They both groaned and again, she felt as if an electrical current passed through them.  They bucked and pulled and pushed. Lips and hands everywhere. Their bodies joined and slicked with sweat.  He thrust and she gyrated.  It was like a dance, full of passion and pleasure until they both cried out in unison and he emptied inside her, gripping her hips tight against him, both of them shuddering and Clarissa finally buckled and fell onto his chest, sated, spent.  Her limbs almost boneless and her insides a mushy moist wetness. Her vibrator can retire if she can have this man next to her every night, she thought fleetingly.  “So, it wasn’t the alcohol after all,” he said, almost wonderingly, after several minutes of silence as their breaths slowed down.  She pushed herself up and looked at him. He was so handsome, it almost hurts to look at him.  “What do you mean?” she asked.  “That amazing, mind-blowing s*x last night. I thought it was the alcohol but we are both sober now,” he explained, running his hands over his hair unconsciously.  She shrugged and grinned lasciviously at him. “Maybe we have chemistry and are naturally good together?” she said, wriggling her eyebrows suggestively.  He laughed, a deep throated laugh that left her toes tingling and her n*****s hardening.  He glanced at the clock on the bedside table and cursed, his whole demeanour changed.  “Dammit, it’s late. I have a meeting to attend,” he said, getting up and walking proudly in all his naked glory, his long thick member nestled innocuously in a bed of black curls, as he headed straight to her bathroom.  Catching herself from staring wistfully at his disappearing back, Clarissa scrambled up and stared down at her messy, damp bed.  She sniffed, a strong musky scent emanated from her sheets. She had no doubt that her sheets and possibly her mattress are covered in both their c*m. They had both cummed so hard and so many times, she had lost count.  And he did not use a condom. She gasped. He. Did. NOT. Use a condom. “Oh no. Oh no, no, no, s**t, damn…no,” she muttered.  She was not on the pill.  She had stopped taking it due to some strange side effects and that was why Nick had religiously used a condom every time they had s*x.  Boring vanilla s*x, that is.  “What am I gonna do, oh no…shit, s**t, s**t,” she muttered as she gathered the clothes discarded around her bedroom floor, separating them in his and hers piles.  She pulled on her robe and wondered if it is not too late to get the morning after pill. She paced the floor, wringing her hands.  Just then, Max..or was it Mark…walked out of the bathroom, still gloriously naked and stared at her quizzically. “What’s going on?” he asked as he gathered his clothes and began to methodically pull every item of clothing on.  She took a deep breath and decided to be honest with him.  “I am not on the pill and last night…this morning…” she blushed, mortified and worried, at the same time.  He stopped buttoning his shirt and stared at her. His eyes were cold shards of glass.  “What did say? And you let me c*m inside you!” he growled.  “I mean…we…I…” she stammered, not knowing what to say. She was so carried away last night, she didn’t think. She had no excuses.  He sighed and rubbed his forehead.  “Fine, you can still get the morning after pill. Just remember to take it immediately,” he said, finally.  “Do you want me to get it for you?” he asked while glancing at the clock. It was almost nine. It looked like he was late and wanted to rush off. She shook her head. “It’s okay, I can pop by the nearby pharmacy and get it, no problem,” she said, pulling her robe tighter around her.  She was a fool. How could she have slept with a stranger without a condom. What if he had venereal diseases. What if he gave her gonorrhoea. Or crabs. Or HIV.  She silently cursed at her carelessness. This was so unlike her.  “I am clean if you are worried. I don’t do this regularly. Just make sure you don’t get pregnant,” he said. He seemed to have read her mind. “Well, I don’t do this regularly too,” she replied, lifting her chin. “In fact, you’re the second man I’ve ever slept with, in my life,” she added. He had finished dressing and was picking up his cell phone from the floor. He stopped and stared at her.  “Really? You expect me to believe that after last night and this morning’s performance,” he raised an eyebrow, his eyes running down her body, undressing her.  “Well, it is the truth,” she said, glaring at him, despite feeling a blush rising up her cheeks and her n*****s hardening and poking themselves out prominently as his eyes travelled up her body slowly, as if seeing through her robe to her naked body underneath.  He glanced at her protruding hard n*****s and grinned. He walked to her and pulled her close to him. She could feel his hardening member pushing at her over the layers of clothes between them.  “I would love to stay and play but I have a meeting. Just make sure you get the pill,” he said and kissed her deeply. He grabbed her butt and pushed her against his hard crotch. “You make me so hard, I just can’t get enough of you,” he muttered against her lips and released her suddenly.  “I better go, if I stay any longer, we might never leave this room until two days later,” he said. He strode to her nightstand and tore off a piece of paper from a notepad there. He scribbled something on it and handed  it to her. “Call me,” he said and strode out the door without glancing back, raising his phone to his ear and speaking in short stuccato tones to someone on the phone.  That was the last she saw of him.
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