Reassembling the night - Sex Stories

Reassembling the night

... the candids. The set concluded with Ryan's mates leering for the camera, middle fingers up with drinks in hand. Work hard, play hard. The familiar start to yet another Friday night. "Not much to go on. Looks like I was drinking PanzerMeister though." "What the hell's that?" "It's like a Jägerbomb, but instead of RedBull, the shots are dropped in lager. Think it's three parts JägerMeister and one part Schnapps over Becks. Pretty heavy duty. Explains a lot." He scrolled back and forth, frowning and shaking his head. "Does your phone give anything away?" "I'd have to find it first." "Gimme your number." She furrowed her brow and reeled it off after a little trial and error. From the hallway, they heard a muffled rendition of Daft Punk's Get Lucky . Ryan rose to fetch it and brought her clutch bag back, amused at her hurriedly looking away from ogling his flared organ. Settling next to her warmth, they scrolled backwards through the gallery revealing a similar story from her perspective. She had evidently photographed Ryan as he performed a drunken striptease. There were some selfies of her wearing just a bra and panties in his bathroom, more photos of Mint Warehouse, her girlfriends drinking, having fun. She was sipping some orange cocktail in most of them. "Aha," she pinched the screen to zoom in. "Tequila sunrise. Sends me crazy loopy, and accounts for the memory loss. It just-" she lapsed into thought, finishing with, "-fucks me up." Imogen dropped her phone back in the ...

... bag. "Can I use the loo?" She scrambled from under the covers without waiting for an answer, bounding a little unsteadily to her feet and using the wall for support. He watched her jiggling as she made her way across the room. Though she was undeniably a few pounds overweight, there was some sort of carefree confidence in the way she carried her well-rounded body, from subtle midriff bulge out to her glorious peach, that made Ryan suddenly want to race after her, grab fistfuls of rump, peel her globes apart and go to town on her dark star. He'd seen some arses in his time, but he was confident that Imogen's was now one he'd recall when alone with nothing but his thoughts for company. Maybe he'd been too picky all these years. At the doorway, she cast a look over her shoulder then disappeared. Ryan grabbed his cock and pumped it a few times, feeling the blood surge in. Had he fucked her? And if so, where? Here on the bed? Over by the desk? Against the wall? On the floor? In the shower? Had he pushed her young frame onto all fours and split her delightful rear as she screamed for it? Annoyingly, nothing concrete from the night before popped into his brain, just fractured flashes too fast for him to decipher. The sound of her tinkling against the porcelain filtered into the room and he swept back the sheets. Ran his hands over where she'd been lying, then bent to smell the area. No evidence of sex, just traces of her floral perfume. As he smoothed the sheets back, Imogen gave a ...