Who Done Her? - Sex Stories

Who Done Her?

... from Candice, did that mean that I slept with Carl?” She was disappointed with herself for smoking weed again. She had another flashback of her giving the sexy, dark haired, and handsome Carl a blow back in the taxi. “I think I must’ve passive smoked somewhat, as when you got to the party I fell asleep in my cab. I can’t really help you with what went on inside. Perhaps you should check the photos on your phone though, as I know for a fact you’ve got a brilliant picture of Candice sucking off that guy and getting a face full of cum. Watching you two girls kiss after she’d finished was probably one of the hottest things I’ve seen in a long while.” Megan blushed as the memory came back. Candice had the softest, most kissable lips and with the taste of Frank’s cum on her tongue, the passion had quickly escalated. She pulled her phone from her pocket and opened up the folder with her pictures. Her hand came to her mouth out of shock from the graphic images of the Candice’s lips stretched around the long, thin shaft of Frank’s cock. Carl must have taken control of her phone after that because the next picture was of her kiss with Candice. Flicking through the pictures, with each new image another memory seeped its way back into her consciousness. Straddling Frank’s lap and allowing him to lick salt from her nipples, before downing the shots of Tequila, and then sucking the lime juice from the wedge between her teeth, having lines of Cocaine cut on her stomach and the feel of the ...

... tickle, as the men came forward and took their hit off her body. Even with the photo evidence she couldn’t recall the memory of dancing on the tables with strangers’ bodies pressed against hers, or jumping naked into the pool. But there was no clue as to who her mystery fuck was. If anything, the more she found out, the harder it became to pin down who he was. “You left the guys at the party around two a.m. You woke me up and told me you needed to go to an address across town.” That bit of information really confused her. At that point she was convinced it was either Frank, or Carl that she’d slept with. She was 99% sure that she hadn’t slept with anyone at the party though. In her memory from the downright dirty sex she’d had, she was sure she was in a hotel. “You came out the party rambling about a phone call and how you had to save your job.” Megan checked the call register on her phone. Sure enough at just before two a.m. there was a log of an incoming call from a number she didn’t recognise. If she’d left Frank and Carl at the party, what the hell was she doing to save her job and how had it ended up with her fucking someone? She dialled the number on the phone. After a few rings someone picked up. “Good Morning, You’re through to the Winchester Hotel. How can I help?” “Sorry, wrong number,” Megan said, before hanging up. “Oh God!! Oh Fuck!!!” Panic was rising quickly, with the bile in her stomach that threatened to return the coffee she’d just drank. “I am so fucked!!” ...