Who Done Her? - Sex Stories

Who Done Her?

... quickly forced their way back into her mind and she tried to shake off the vivid picture of her pussy being filled. The dream was the last thing she wanted to remember in that moment. She wanted to remember how she’d actually fallen asleep in the first place in order for her to have the dirty fantasy. “I was good. I only had a few glasses of wine with my meal last night.” That much she remembered, but why was everything else such a blur? She wasn’t a big drinker anymore; she’d always struggled to handle alcohol. “I should’ve taken the warning not to drink with my new medication a little more seriously!” Her hand rubbed over her tense shoulder and she winced in pain when her fingers found a really tender spot. Nothing occurred to her for a moment, until thoughts of her dream filled her mind once again. She gasped loudly when the sensation of him sinking his teeth into her shoulder replayed with a vivid intensity. She quickly got up, ignoring her spinning head and the ache in her legs and went to the bathroom. Turning around, she could see her reflection in the mirror. She saw her shoulder wore the unmistakable remnant of a bite mark. “Fuck! It wasn’t a dream.” Even seeing the teeth indentations and the start of a bruise on her shoulder, didn’t allow her brain to register the meaning. Trying to find a way of disproving what she’d discovered, her hands went to the inside of her thighs. She found the crispy, dried residual of cum that had leaked from her body at some point. ...

... “Who the fuck did I sleep with last night?” For the first time she willingly brought thoughts of her dream to mind. It was a desperate attempt to see the face of the man that had smashed into her pussy with his cock, but try as she might she could not picture his face. “Think. What was the last thing I remember?” Her mind went back. She was in town for a business trip. She’d been sent to meet some new clients. She went back into the bedroom, found her handbag and emptied the contents onto the bed. There was an invite to the sit down meal at a restaurant not far from her hotel. A taxi receipt for a journey she couldn’t remember taking, her medication and lipstick that wasn’t her usual shade. The last thing that really caught her eye was the gold cufflink. She picked up the heavy metal accessory and wondered if it could belong to the man that had fucked so well and truly. They weren’t many clues to go off and she wished she could remember more of what happened. If she had slept with one of the clients it would look so unprofessional. If it got back to her boss, she feared it might mean the end to her blossoming new career. She made herself a coffee with the pitiful items the hotel supplied in her room. She wouldn’t usually bother because they never gave enough milk and the coffee was always cheap, but she needed any form of caffeine to solve the mystery she’d unwittingly created. “Maybe it wasn’t one of the clients?” she thought to herself, as she grimaced at the foul tasting, ...