What..
the fuck...
did i do last night?
Ever have one of those nights where you wake up the next morning in a suit you didn't own, with a grand cash extra in your pockets, next to two naked woman, in a state you weren't in the day prior...enter me.
you are coming to...as you open your eyes and take a look around, your senses dulled from engaging in the various activities the night prior, your initial reaction is confusion, your second emotion is fear. you are scared to be in an unfamiliar place. your brain eventually makes this click,and then your eyes bug out and you jerkidly freeze. as you start surveying your surroundings further more, you become more scared. "where the fuck am i...who the fuck are they..what the fuck am i wearing..how the fuck did this all happen...what the fuck did i do last night"are things you say, first to yourself, then more audibly as you progress. you spring up out of the bed and depending on how coked-up the girls are they don't budge.
once out of the bed you try to gather your senses - fright may have sobered you up, slightly, but you still hold your balance like a baby taking it's first steps. you continue to look around..but you're head pounds as you panickly jerk your eyes trying to catch a glimpse of familiarity. you're in a hotel room, no, a hotel suite..has to be, this 'room' is larger than you're apartment back home...home, that's where i thought i would be at this hour...what i'm i talking about, i don't even know what time it is...
this all doesn't make sense..beams of sunlight bust through the cracks in the blinds on the glass wall behind you. you don't dare glance back in that direction as the early afternoon sun is your eye's, and head's, enemy. this all doesn't make any sense..you try to rationalize everything by thinking 'it's all a dream'...maybe some twisted dream..maybe some weird nightmare...depends on what get you here..but the yellowed walls intensifying every bit of light cause you enough pain to make you realize, it ain't a dream sister.
why do most hotels use this god awful yellow color..yellow is such a bile color - Dostoevsky said it best in Crime and Punishment, so i'll just let him take care of that..the two chairs in opposite corners of the room and long sofa creating a divide in the living area are of a softer cream color. they look comfortable to sit in, but again, not to look at right now..i bet those would look good in the living room at the apartment..you find solace in the dark mahogany-esque woodwork on the trim and dressers throughout the large open space, something easy on your thin eyes. that's when you spot your phone on one of the nightstands on the other side of the california king bed.
you begin to take a quick route around the bed to grab your phone, but in your haste, limited periphery, and off equilibrium, you stumble over pile of pillows and bundled comforter as you turn the corner...you go down hard, trying your best to save yourself, only causing more noise and more injury. you quickly pick yourself back up but you see the girls rustling from the noise. when you fell you brought down the blankets that were covering the girls, that's when you see they are completely naked - well one girl has lost all blanket while the other has only lost half..but i'm pretty sure it's safe to say she's naked too. the completely uncovered girl rolls over waking up, probably cold. she starts blindly reaching for her blankets, pulling herself up into a sitting position reaching down by her feet for the lost shelter.
she looks at you from behind her curly brunette highlighted bangs that fall over her big brown bloodshot eyes standing at the edge of the bed, frozen in time like a picture. she's not frightened, but you are..she's probably still asleep, or drugged up to really care, she just wants the warmth of something surrounding her. your fear quickly vanishes as human instincts kick in..you no longer meet her in her eyes as you try to savor this moment..catching a glimpse of her young body before she hides it again from you. it may only take a few seconds but this moment is in slow motion as she pulls up on the white patterned sheets..slowly making every delicious bit of her disappear...this is not the magic trick i want to see..
the 600 count Egyptian cotton can't match the softness of her skin, in your head. you watch as she cocoons herself starting from her feet and working her way up her delicate, slender body..the little triangular patch is no longer in sight...the last thing you get to see are her perky breasts..and as she tucks those lucky covers under her arm rolling onto her left side, she also ends your viewing pleasure
you're a boob guy - if a chick is sporting some cleavage, you'll give her a second glance. i blame mother as you were breast fed as a child. no matter what size you just wanna see them..however, there is a point when there isn't enough and a point when there is way too much. the "C" cup is the average in society, granted as many times as i have heard girls tell me they are C's i've wanted to get a second opinion...since almost everyone is a C, the category for C has become to large...you got girls who are plump B's trying to pull off lies with a C, and then you have girls who are just large squeezing into C's making them look even larger..whatever the case maybe, the correct C is correct for me, i'll give you some lenience but a C will get you an A
the other girl has dark brown or black hair, it's hard to tell though it kinda matches the woodwork. she is laying on her stomach so you don't have the show like you did with the other girl..granted you get a brief glimpse of her ass, but like i said before, you're a boob kinda guy. i mean you can spot a nice ass when you see one..you don't want a flat ass..maybe something tight and cute....or a little bit bigger to smack..it just doesn't get you worked up like a pair of breasts do.
your lost in the thoughts of cleavage, but as the curtains close on the show time begins again at it's normal pace and your grabbing your knee as the pain from the fall has now arrived. "i hope i did something with that brunette chick" you think to yourself trying to create a moment out of your peep show. you finally remember what it was you were doing, gathering your belongings, your phone, on the nightstand, right...you make your way around to the other side of the bed, closer now to the darker haired girl. from this angle you can now catch a side glimpse of her face; darker in complexion, slightly more weathered, a few freckles trickle off her pointy nose and slide under her closed eyes. she appears a little older than the naked brunette, but she could just be aged from experience.
you pick up your phone which is flashing from the night stand and flip it open...wow, it's been blown up - from texts to missed calls..you also notice that you yourself made a lot of calls to those very same numbers the night prior...ughhh, what could you have said..eighteen calls in total made, that's eighteen calls to eighteen different numbers...way to go 'drunk dial champ'. afraid to look at the texts or listen to the voicemails you close the phone back up and slide it into your pocket...well the pocket of the clothes you are wearing which still aren't yours..."where's the bathroom in this place?"
"in the morning you know we won't remember a thing..."
the fuck...
did i do last night?
Ever have one of those nights where you wake up the next morning in a suit you didn't own, with a grand cash extra in your pockets, next to two naked woman, in a state you weren't in the day prior...enter me.
you are coming to...as you open your eyes and take a look around, your senses dulled from engaging in the various activities the night prior, your initial reaction is confusion, your second emotion is fear. you are scared to be in an unfamiliar place. your brain eventually makes this click,and then your eyes bug out and you jerkidly freeze. as you start surveying your surroundings further more, you become more scared. "where the fuck am i...who the fuck are they..what the fuck am i wearing..how the fuck did this all happen...what the fuck did i do last night"are things you say, first to yourself, then more audibly as you progress. you spring up out of the bed and depending on how coked-up the girls are they don't budge.
once out of the bed you try to gather your senses - fright may have sobered you up, slightly, but you still hold your balance like a baby taking it's first steps. you continue to look around..but you're head pounds as you panickly jerk your eyes trying to catch a glimpse of familiarity. you're in a hotel room, no, a hotel suite..has to be, this 'room' is larger than you're apartment back home...home, that's where i thought i would be at this hour...what i'm i talking about, i don't even know what time it is...
this all doesn't make sense..beams of sunlight bust through the cracks in the blinds on the glass wall behind you. you don't dare glance back in that direction as the early afternoon sun is your eye's, and head's, enemy. this all doesn't make any sense..you try to rationalize everything by thinking 'it's all a dream'...maybe some twisted dream..maybe some weird nightmare...depends on what get you here..but the yellowed walls intensifying every bit of light cause you enough pain to make you realize, it ain't a dream sister.
why do most hotels use this god awful yellow color..yellow is such a bile color - Dostoevsky said it best in Crime and Punishment, so i'll just let him take care of that..the two chairs in opposite corners of the room and long sofa creating a divide in the living area are of a softer cream color. they look comfortable to sit in, but again, not to look at right now..i bet those would look good in the living room at the apartment..you find solace in the dark mahogany-esque woodwork on the trim and dressers throughout the large open space, something easy on your thin eyes. that's when you spot your phone on one of the nightstands on the other side of the california king bed.
you begin to take a quick route around the bed to grab your phone, but in your haste, limited periphery, and off equilibrium, you stumble over pile of pillows and bundled comforter as you turn the corner...you go down hard, trying your best to save yourself, only causing more noise and more injury. you quickly pick yourself back up but you see the girls rustling from the noise. when you fell you brought down the blankets that were covering the girls, that's when you see they are completely naked - well one girl has lost all blanket while the other has only lost half..but i'm pretty sure it's safe to say she's naked too. the completely uncovered girl rolls over waking up, probably cold. she starts blindly reaching for her blankets, pulling herself up into a sitting position reaching down by her feet for the lost shelter.
she looks at you from behind her curly brunette highlighted bangs that fall over her big brown bloodshot eyes standing at the edge of the bed, frozen in time like a picture. she's not frightened, but you are..she's probably still asleep, or drugged up to really care, she just wants the warmth of something surrounding her. your fear quickly vanishes as human instincts kick in..you no longer meet her in her eyes as you try to savor this moment..catching a glimpse of her young body before she hides it again from you. it may only take a few seconds but this moment is in slow motion as she pulls up on the white patterned sheets..slowly making every delicious bit of her disappear...this is not the magic trick i want to see..
the 600 count Egyptian cotton can't match the softness of her skin, in your head. you watch as she cocoons herself starting from her feet and working her way up her delicate, slender body..the little triangular patch is no longer in sight...the last thing you get to see are her perky breasts..and as she tucks those lucky covers under her arm rolling onto her left side, she also ends your viewing pleasure
you're a boob guy - if a chick is sporting some cleavage, you'll give her a second glance. i blame mother as you were breast fed as a child. no matter what size you just wanna see them..however, there is a point when there isn't enough and a point when there is way too much. the "C" cup is the average in society, granted as many times as i have heard girls tell me they are C's i've wanted to get a second opinion...since almost everyone is a C, the category for C has become to large...you got girls who are plump B's trying to pull off lies with a C, and then you have girls who are just large squeezing into C's making them look even larger..whatever the case maybe, the correct C is correct for me, i'll give you some lenience but a C will get you an A
the other girl has dark brown or black hair, it's hard to tell though it kinda matches the woodwork. she is laying on her stomach so you don't have the show like you did with the other girl..granted you get a brief glimpse of her ass, but like i said before, you're a boob kinda guy. i mean you can spot a nice ass when you see one..you don't want a flat ass..maybe something tight and cute....or a little bit bigger to smack..it just doesn't get you worked up like a pair of breasts do.
your lost in the thoughts of cleavage, but as the curtains close on the show time begins again at it's normal pace and your grabbing your knee as the pain from the fall has now arrived. "i hope i did something with that brunette chick" you think to yourself trying to create a moment out of your peep show. you finally remember what it was you were doing, gathering your belongings, your phone, on the nightstand, right...you make your way around to the other side of the bed, closer now to the darker haired girl. from this angle you can now catch a side glimpse of her face; darker in complexion, slightly more weathered, a few freckles trickle off her pointy nose and slide under her closed eyes. she appears a little older than the naked brunette, but she could just be aged from experience.
you pick up your phone which is flashing from the night stand and flip it open...wow, it's been blown up - from texts to missed calls..you also notice that you yourself made a lot of calls to those very same numbers the night prior...ughhh, what could you have said..eighteen calls in total made, that's eighteen calls to eighteen different numbers...way to go 'drunk dial champ'. afraid to look at the texts or listen to the voicemails you close the phone back up and slide it into your pocket...well the pocket of the clothes you are wearing which still aren't yours..."where's the bathroom in this place?"
"in the morning you know we won't remember a thing..."
3 comments:
Panickly? Way to totally make up words.
Also, congrats on the prostitute threesome to which I assume you're referring... but I think you were supposed to leave that mysterious grand in your pocket on the night stand. ;)
yes, panickly i made up..but it was fitting for what i wanted to say...i like ly endings...and panicky is gay
i don't think they were prostitutes either, just girls looking for a good time..
and the grand..winnings?
that's quite a beautifully told experience...
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