A Night Not To Remember.... - Sex Stories

A Night Not To Remember....

A Night Not To Remember.....

1.

“If you ever tell anyone I'll fucking kill you!”

It didn't seem to matter that I had Gary up against the wall by the shirt he couldn't stop laughing, his broad shoulders were going up and down like he was going to have a seizure or something.

“OK, OK!” His laughing subsided into stifled guffaws as I loosened my grip

“I'm telling you..”

“Yeah, OK, OK. I wouldn't dare would I ? You're my best mate.”

I sat down again opposite him and buried my head in my hands.

“What I don't get is how? Or, or why, but how?”

“Well you'd had a few hadn't you?

“Yeah but how, it's not as if she...”

“What, she what?”

“Look, I know you didn't see her and God knows how unless you were more pissed than me but she was just...” My conversation was just tailing off into unfinished sentences at this point.

Gary looked on in wonder and expectation at what I was going to say, like he was listening to some great orator about to impart the wisdom of Plato, mind you he always was one for a story. I slumped back in the armchair as the telly flickered its nonsense in the corner.

How was I to know? I mean, it should have been obvious, shouldn't it?

2.

The George was a normal pub, our local since we were kids of 15, always trying to convince the barman we were older than we looked.

“It's just you mate, blokes look younger these days. Just look at coppers, just kids ain't they?”

Harry had run the place for forty years and when he ...

... died it never seemed the same. Thank God for that, it was a bloody depressing hole of a boozer and the day it reopened all the crumpet from miles around came every Friday and Saturday night. And there WE were, Gary and Dean; the Lone Ranger and Clint Eastwood or whoever we decided to be on the night. Bloody hell we screwed some birds we'd met at that place renamed The Oasis and it certainly was that. A pleasure palace full of sexy women, wall to wall fanny. Gary always went for the blondes but I wasn't fussy, any hole was a goal as far as I was concerned. If she looked like a good fuck all the better and if she had big tits I was immediately drawn. I'd always had this thing about birds with big knockers, the bigger the better and The Oasis wasn't short on that front. We'd ply the girls with drinks and then coax them back to our place where we'd fuck 'em and call them a cab afterwards. Gentlemen to the last! One time we somehow managed to swap birds in the middle of the night, God knows how but it made for an interesting comparison conversation over breakfast in the morning.

It was our usual routine, work all week, fuck all weekend and we were bloody good at it. But last Saturday I couldn't believe my luck and I shouldn't have either. We'd been chatting up these two girls from a hotel on the seafront a few miles away. They'd come over because they were bored with the local nightlife and had heard our place was pretty good. Good? It was fucking awesome! Ten different lagers ...