One Night in the Day

One Night in the Day

Content warning: This story depicts sexual encounters while inebriated and therefore, dubious consent. Which is exactly how 90% of all my one night stands happened. It must be something in the water…


Before I’ve even opened my eyes, I know I’ll have a headache from hell. The churning in my stomach says I drank way too much last night, the dryness of my mouth confirms it. Steeling myself, I open one eye, just enough to let in a glimpse of the early morning light. The spinning that instantly sets my stomach on route up my throat tells me it’s worse than I thought, and I shut them tight. Taking a few deep breaths, I try again, turning away from the glaring interruption that is morning.

Peeking through the tiny slits that are now my eyes, I gasp as I take in the blurry form of a man. Blinking rapidly, the figure clears, and I stare at a toned chest and lightly stubbled chin. Dark hair is cropped close to his head, long lashes lay against rosy cheeks. Even asleep, features relaxed, I can tell he’s breathtaking. Although certainly not someone I know. Shuffling back quickly, creating a bit of space, my ass hits the unmistakable solidity of a second person. I roll over franticly, squeezing my eyes tight as my head throbs anew.

I’m correct in assuming it’s a person, but even I wasn’t prepared for this sort of person. A female person. A woman. The soft curve of her breasts and the flawless complexion of her pale skin are an easy tell. The long white-blonde hair fanning around her head like a snowy mane, framing her pixie-like face settles my suspicions. A soft snore echoes as she takes in each deep dream-influenced breath. Even with this tiny flaw, she’s gorgeous.

Rolling onto my back, headache momentarily forgotten, I look back and forth between my handsome bedmates. This is certainly a first, even for me, the self-professed sex explorer. I’ve certainly woken up in bed with strangers before, but they’ve always been the singular – one stranger. And never once have I woken up to a woman. What the hell happened last night? I think as I close my eyes.

The bass of a fast beat reverberates through the floor, resonates through my veins. Hand’s roam over my body, gripping and kneading, starting soft and then turning harder before moving on to explore new dips and valleys. An unmistakable bulge grinds against my ass, keeping pace as I sway my hips side to side and push back to press against the growing hardness. Our bodies slide and grind in rhythm with the pulsating bodies that surround us.

I shake my head lightly to clear the vision from my mind, wincing as my head reminds me of the countless shots, the bottle of champagne. Another flashback has a new ache forming in my groin and a familiar tingle spreads through my core. I press my thighs together in a futile attempt to stave it.

Small uncalloused hands slide under the front of my flowing top, brushing lightly against my anxiously quivering belly.  A soft yet demanding mouth on mine, nipping at my lips. A tongue teasing my lips open, tentatively touching, pulling back, then probing deeper when I return in kind. My hands are held behind me, my schoolgirl skirt tugged up, trapped between clasped wrists. A single finger brushes over the embarrassingly moist lace that covers my needy sex. The lips on my mouth swallow my moans as more nectar leaks from my swollen pussy.

A mouth close to my ear, hot breath tickling the sensitive spot just behind. Being asked if I want to come home and play. Her sharp fingernails pinch through the fabric of my top and lace bra, gripping my nipples until my mouth falls open, a moan of arousal tumbling out. The urgent nod of my head, and my reply of not being able to think of anything better.

I groan as I recall my vulgar behaviour, essentially fucking two people in the middle of a crowded dance floor but can’t deny the throbbing that has settled in my center. Moving gingerly, I press the sheet that covers my bare tits down to my waist, attempting to sit up and slip away without alerting the sleeping beauties. As my naked form is exposed my breath catches while innumerable love bites and hickeys are revealed. My breasts are peppered and a few more trail down my belly meeting distinctive bite marks scattered on my thighs. Closing my eyes, the previous nights’ events flood my memory.

Waiting for a cab, sandwiched between them as his lips and tongue caress my exposed neck. A blonde head bobbing before me as she pulls my panties down my legs in a single tug before standing and covering my bare flesh with a petite hand. The sensation of being squeezed and then pet, followed by a loud resounding crack as her fingers strike my clit. My cry of pleasure being muffled as her lips latch onto mine once again.

Leather interior is spread beneath me, sticking to my bare ass. Demanding lips kiss me deeply, urgently, strong hands holding my head in place. Her red mouth is latched onto my nipple, teeth nibbling and pulling, her tongue flicking and soothing before she bites down relentlessly. Each has a hand grasping one trembling thigh, presenting my drenched feminine flesh like a feast, before rubbing my sensitive nub between synchronised thumbs. Dark eyes bore into mine through the rear-view mirror and my sighs turn to guttural groans and cries as I stare back.

Shuffling down the linen sheets noiselessly, I sit on the beds edge. Rubbing my eyes, I look around the disheveled room, scanning for my skimpy clothes from the night previous, and spot my lace bra a few feet away. Reaching out to grab it, I notice the dark bruises that circle my slender wrist for the first time. They’re mild and surely not going to last long. I find myself rubbing the discoloured skin reverently as the memory of their source comes back to me full force.

The pale-haired beauty is above me, holding my arms above my head, between her open legs. My fingers are mere inches from her bare folds, and I stretch my digits out, hoping to stroke the silky-smooth tissue, to no avail. Small, diamond-point nipples tickle my lips, and I lift my head to catch each in turn, lapping and biting gently. His sheathed cock probes my wet entrance, slides through my arousal, spreading juices from bottom to top. Leaning over me, she presses her bare mound against my mouth, and slick heat coats my chin and lips. God, does she taste divine.

Licking my lips, like her tang still lingers on my tongue, I stand then wince. My body aches from a night of dancing, fucking, and god knows what else. Tiptoeing through the landmine-littered floor consisting of clothing, shoes, and condoms, open and not, I find my top crumpled in a ball. Lifting it, I notice a torn strap. Spinning in circles, I eye my skirt and tracing my way back through the maze, I lift it gingerly, wondering what malfunction it has in store.

Besides being wrinkled and smelling like a whore house, it’s no worse for wear. Although quite indecent for the time of day. This morning’s journey home will truly be a walk of shame. Deciding my panties will likely not be found, or wearable, I slip my toes into the heels I discarded in the haste to get me naked. My bag is conveniently located and I slip out the door and look back at the two mysterious paramours still in the oversized bed. I take a moment to commit their likenesses to memory then shake my head and turn away.

In the adjacent bathroom, I appraise my reflection at the vanity mirror. Black mascara is smudged beneath both eyes causing them to appear sunken, my skin sallow. My hair screams, “just fucked”, but not in a bad way, I note thankfully. My lips are red and puffy, swollen from hours of friction, and small bite-marks traverse along my neck, a continuation of the trail on my chest. Sitting, I relieve myself, grimacing as the hard seat stings my cold ass. My nipples harden as I remember confident hands upon me.

Fingers grips my hips as he pulls me back onto him, then pushes me forward, shifting my mouth closer to her glistening folds. Moaning, I collect her essence on my tongue, before being once more impaled on his rigid length. Grasping my round ass in a vice-like grip, he pulls my cheeks apart, plunging deeper. Pumping at a leisurely pace, each cheek is massaged forcefully. Smacked lightly then harder before he slaps each in quick succession, lacking restraint. The burn spreads through me as he thrusts deeper, picking up the pace.

The blonde’s hands are twisting my nipples, pulling mercilessly. My back arches as pleasure and pain collide and the first spasms of climax roll through me, increasing as it expands. Roughly calloused fingers fondle my clit and upon sitting, her soft yet relentless mouth swallows the first orgasmic whimpers as I tip over into ecstasy, charging the air with moans of pleasure and cries of release.

I lay languid, comfortable, drowsy, my eyes blinking slowly. She’s straddling his thighs, facing him, rocking back and forth, gently, benevolently. They whisper unhurried secrets in each other’s ears, kiss softly, adoringly. I close my eyes and sigh.

Cleaning up as best I can with what’s in my bag and a ripped shirt, I dress and open the bathroom door. Turning the opposite way, I make my way to the front door and begin the task of unlocking it.

“You can stay for breakfast, you know, and longer if you’d like,” a deep, yet friendly voice comes from behind me. I turn in place, suddenly embarrassed for trying to sneak away, unsure why. I can sense a red flush creeping up my uncertain face.

“At least let me give you something else to wear since I ripped your top,” the sexy blonde says with a southern lilt and a bright smile. They sit close together at a breakfast table, a newspaper spread before them, looking like they just walked out of a magazine. Not a stitch of clothing covers either and yet I feel like the naked one.

Looking at me over the rim of his coffee cup, the dark-haired Adonis continues, “If you won’t take some toast or a shirt, can we at least offer you a replay of last night?”


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For more fiction from MrsK click here.

Header Photo by Cassidy Dickens on Unsplash

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