EROTIC REVENGE
A Morning To Remember
I can’t remember last night, but I’ll remember this morning
The morning alarm pulsates in my mind. Fuck, it’s headache time. I reach for the clock, but there’s a body in my way. Who is it, and how did she get here? I don’t think about it too hard. The headache is blasting through my brain, pushed onwards by the infernal throbbing devil’s music.
I admire her form, lying under the white sheets. She’s got a nice ass, I say to myself. I bet we had some sweet, sweaty fun. I’ll remember it later. Why the fuck do I have white linen sheets? Mine are pink and satin.
I realize this isn’t my condo. I hope I’m still in the same country I was when I went out last night. It’s too easy to have a country-hopping party here in Europe. God, I hope I’m still in Europe. Oh, well. Whatever. I’ll deal with it.
Ever since I was young, I’ve always been up for adventures. As a kid, I was a tomboy. I loved to climb trees, get into fights, play baseball, and go skinny dipping at the local swimming hole. We enjoyed our lives, just being kids, playing and hanging out. But it all changed when I hit puberty. Skinny dipping was a no-no once my curves showed up, but I still did it. Being naked is being free. I couldn’t play baseball as well as I used to, and that sucked. Boys became interesting in whole new ways, but we’ll keep the details between me and the boys.
Since I grew up an army brat, moving from base to base, country to country. I learned to make friends fast. And the best way to do that was to be up for any adventure available. From breaking into abandoned houses — there were lots of empty houses on the bases — to joyriding the jeeps (and once a tank), there were always ways to impress the fresh faces. It didn’t hurt that most of the boys (and some girls) wanted to get up close and real personal with me. Sex simply became a way of bonding with people. It became like a handshake, but a lot more fun.
I crawl out of bed and check out my situation. It’s your standard luxury penthouse suite in any of the premier hotels worldwide. They’re all pretty generic. I spot the alarm clock. Despite it being a swanky room, they still cheaped out with the old-school digital alarm clock. It even has an AM radio in it. So tacky! I pull it out of the wall by its cord, walk over to the window, and toss the fucker out. I spy the Eiffel Tower, so I know I’m still in Paris or somehow in Vegas. Either way, it’s tres cool.
I see my clothes in a pile on the floor. Hopefully, they’re still okay to wear. Otherwise, I’m stealing one of those white, fluffy bathrobes and heading home. I’ve got a closet full of them from joints like this. It won’t be the first time I’ve woken up beside a strange woman and had to steal a bathrobe. And I bet it won’t be the last, either.
There’s an unopened bottle of Dom chilling on the side table, with freshly squeezed OJ and a basket of croissants beside them. I pop open the champagne — the cork hits the ceiling, and bubbly sprays everywhere — grab a flute, pour in some OJ and then a generous helping of Dom. Croissants and mimosas are my favourite way to start a day.
The roar of running water comes from the bath, and being a curious girl, I investigate. The shower is gushing full force, and the steam from the hot water has clouded the room. I can’t make anything out clearly, but I can tell there’s someone inside the shower cleaning up. And I can also tell they’re hung, even from here. I’m a pretty expert judge of dick size, no matter the distance or visibility.
Time for some fun, I think to myself as I slide into the shower beside him. I drop to my knees and head towards his dick. Oh, shit, I know this fucking dick and his cock, too. And I never wanted to see it again unless it’s pickled in a jar on my desk. Damn, that’d be a cool drink. Ice cold vodka stirred with a pickled penis. I’m a goddamn marketing genius, but back to this unwanted dick staring me in the face.
I stand upright, my tits quivering with anger. “What the fuck are you doing here, asshole? I told you to stay the hell away from me. I never wanted to see you again!”
His laugh booms, long and hard and deep (much like his dick). Looking me square in the eyes, with his usual shit-eating grin, “You don’t remember? You came here. Nobody forced you. In fact, all this was your idea. We had a real good time last night. All three of us.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” is all I can muster. As the queen of seduction, I’m usually the one doing the enticing. The one time in my life I try to resist, temptation slams a big, hard horse-dick into me.
“Don’t be so down, babe. We all had a good time,” he says with a self-satisfied grin stretched across his ugly mug, mocking me.
I shoot him the dirtiest look I can muster, but his smile grows wider. My reaction, of course, is to fume and grow angrier while I try to figure my way out of this situation.
Building all of my anger and defiance into one withering glance, I say, with as much venom as I could muster, “Bullshit! Nothing happened. I’m not that dumb.” In my heart of hearts, I knew I could very well have been. A couple of vodkas and Red Bulls have that impact.
“Go watch the video of it, then. It was your idea, too,” came his smarmy reply.
“You took advantage of me,” I pout.
“Honey, nobody takes advantage of you. You’re the toughest broad I know,” he says, trying to butter me up.
He grabs me, pulling me deep into his embrace. He tries to kiss me. I struggle while his rock-hard cock presses firmly into me. Part of me wants to give into passion. Arguing and fighting always gets my blood going. Gets me horny for an anger fuck.
But not today. Not with him!
He kisses me deeply, but I struggle free and race to the living room.
He is still laughing, chasing me. “A little rough play, today? You never liked it before.”
“You bastard,” I snarl, long past horny anger, and now heading towards full-blown rage. He lunges at me. I slip away and grab the champagne bottle. Maybe if I knock him out, I can get away, and all of this will become another forgotten night in a long list of forgotten nights.
He comes towards me, backing me onto the balcony.
“Some outdoor delight, babe? You always liked it outdoors, but usually with an audience.” His audacity is pissing me off. Royally! Couple that with the banging in my head from this fucking hangover; I’ve had enough. Cocking my arm back, like I’m Nolan Fucking Ryan, I swing the champagne bottle at the son of a bitch.
THWACK!
The noise of the bottle hitting the wall reverberates through the penthouse. Fortunately, the bottle doesn’t break, or I’d be tiptoeing through glass in my bare feet. To make it worse, I missed him by about a yard.
He’s pressing up against me, forcing me into the corner of the balcony. I grab the railing. Despite my fear of heights, I wiggle away.
“I like it when you fight back. It’s a change from you tying me up.”
“Not this time, dude. I said NO, and I mean it.” I push him away, hard, and turn back to the bedroom.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see him lose his balance… I move to grab his hand, but I’m too late.
He’s tumbling over the guardrail.
I gasp, shocked, but there’s nothing I can do. Before I can blink, he’s on the cement. Splayed out like a child’s broken doll.
Thinking quickly, I drop the champagne bottle over with him. Hopefully, it’ll make him look drunker than he probably already is. Who knew fucking the entire CSI team would come in this handy?
I finish my mimosa and leave the glass beside the OJ. It’s been a long day, and it’s only nine in the morning. I have to look all doe-eyed and innocent when the detectives show up. “Oh, really? Dead? How? We were just partying last night. Oh, no, what’ll we do?”
But until then, there’s still a hot girl in bed and she needs some waking up. And I’m just the girl to do it.
Little Miss Right Now isn’t interested in later. Gotta live for the moment, for right now. Read her stories ‘cause that’s as close as you’re gettin’!
The local preacher man used to call her a sinner while he boned her hard, but when there’s no future, how can there be sin?
Read all about her here:
Another Tantalizing Tale by Donal Greigh
