I've Had Enough of Sex!
folder
Erotica › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
6
Views:
5,696
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Erotica › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
6
Views:
5,696
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
I've Had Enough of Sex!
Sunday Morning Aches
It was an early morning Sunday when Tori finally rolled out from her tangled sheets. She needed a shower, then she needed to meet up with her friends at the café downtown. Her brain registered a disgruntled groan as she stripped and stepped into the stall--and I need to tell Larry it’s over.
They’d been screwing each other non-stop since last month and now was the perfect time to dump him--before he thought to get serious. Tori snorted as she lathered on her lavender-scented body wash. Men always thought it was women who got ideas for wedding bells, but in the fifteen years of Tori’s sexually active life, she’d seen the look of commitment creep into men’s eyes a week away. She knew if she didn’t dump Larry today, he’d do something dangerous. Like ask me to stay in and cuddle.
Tori shuddered. There was no way she was letting a man trap her in as an exclusive right. Never again.
The alarm clock blared for about the ump-teenth time. “Fuck!” Carla swore. She hated getting up on Sundays. She hated getting up on any day, period. She was a night person for Pete’s sake! “I must’ve been possessed to agree to an afternoon with the gals,” she muttered on the way to her dresser. She caught sight of her reflection in the mirror and swore again.
“It’s gonna take a month to untangle this mess!” She stared vindictively at the web of blond hair that matted her head. She turned around to glare at the stranger she’d brought home just the night before--the one who insistently ran his hands through her tresses and used them as a grip when he climaxed again and again. The sex hadn’t even been great for her. Grabbing a pair of scissors, she began cutting.
“I need to find me a man that doesn’t have a way to ruin something of mine,” she muttered angrily as another foot-long lock fell to the floor. Since last month she’d had to replace her couch, her coffee table, quite a few pillows, two lamps, three chairs, and the handle bar in her shower.
Carla admitted she liked her sex rough and anonymous. Last night’s candidate turned out to be a dud, actually getting her to the bed without smashing anything. “At least he had the decency to leave early.” She shook out any remaining loose strands and surveyed the damage. Her new crop was ragged, but still managed to be appealing. “Damn I look hot!” She kissed her reflection and headed to the bathroom to take a bath. “Not bad for a stylist drop out.” Running her fingers under the tap and finding the warmth bliss, she stepped in. There was no need to take off any clothes--who ever she’d been with had at least succeeded in flinging every last article into some unknown corner.
“Twelve at the café,” She reminded herself as the water caressed her breasts.
The music was pounding her skull non-stop. Leese cracked open her eyes and tried to take stock of her surroundings. She groaned in realization that she had no clue where she was. Or who was still inside her. Moving carefully, she extracted herself from the arms of two sweaty men and proceeded not to make the one in her any more aroused than he already was. One glance at a clock on the wall told her she had thirty minutes to figure out where she was and get to the café.
Leese swore as a she made it outside and a crushing head ache took the place of the music’s pounding. Someone had slipped something in her drink last night, she knew it. It’d happened twice this month and she’d had enough. The first time she hadn’t minded because it had enhanced the experience. But this time…this time she would bet her entire year-salary that someone had slipped her a sedative and she’d passed out.
Yanking on her clothes, she made it to the elevator and out the lobby in record time. Turning back, she recognized the hotel and breathed a sigh of relief. That would mean the café was only one block down. Leese would just have to hope her high heels could get her there in time for her to at least straighten out her appearance in the bathroom. There were so many aches and pains reminding her of how stupid she’d been just a few hours ago.
She didn’t want to even think of what those bastards did to her unconscious body.
It was an early morning Sunday when Tori finally rolled out from her tangled sheets. She needed a shower, then she needed to meet up with her friends at the café downtown. Her brain registered a disgruntled groan as she stripped and stepped into the stall--and I need to tell Larry it’s over.
They’d been screwing each other non-stop since last month and now was the perfect time to dump him--before he thought to get serious. Tori snorted as she lathered on her lavender-scented body wash. Men always thought it was women who got ideas for wedding bells, but in the fifteen years of Tori’s sexually active life, she’d seen the look of commitment creep into men’s eyes a week away. She knew if she didn’t dump Larry today, he’d do something dangerous. Like ask me to stay in and cuddle.
Tori shuddered. There was no way she was letting a man trap her in as an exclusive right. Never again.
The alarm clock blared for about the ump-teenth time. “Fuck!” Carla swore. She hated getting up on Sundays. She hated getting up on any day, period. She was a night person for Pete’s sake! “I must’ve been possessed to agree to an afternoon with the gals,” she muttered on the way to her dresser. She caught sight of her reflection in the mirror and swore again.
“It’s gonna take a month to untangle this mess!” She stared vindictively at the web of blond hair that matted her head. She turned around to glare at the stranger she’d brought home just the night before--the one who insistently ran his hands through her tresses and used them as a grip when he climaxed again and again. The sex hadn’t even been great for her. Grabbing a pair of scissors, she began cutting.
“I need to find me a man that doesn’t have a way to ruin something of mine,” she muttered angrily as another foot-long lock fell to the floor. Since last month she’d had to replace her couch, her coffee table, quite a few pillows, two lamps, three chairs, and the handle bar in her shower.
Carla admitted she liked her sex rough and anonymous. Last night’s candidate turned out to be a dud, actually getting her to the bed without smashing anything. “At least he had the decency to leave early.” She shook out any remaining loose strands and surveyed the damage. Her new crop was ragged, but still managed to be appealing. “Damn I look hot!” She kissed her reflection and headed to the bathroom to take a bath. “Not bad for a stylist drop out.” Running her fingers under the tap and finding the warmth bliss, she stepped in. There was no need to take off any clothes--who ever she’d been with had at least succeeded in flinging every last article into some unknown corner.
“Twelve at the café,” She reminded herself as the water caressed her breasts.
The music was pounding her skull non-stop. Leese cracked open her eyes and tried to take stock of her surroundings. She groaned in realization that she had no clue where she was. Or who was still inside her. Moving carefully, she extracted herself from the arms of two sweaty men and proceeded not to make the one in her any more aroused than he already was. One glance at a clock on the wall told her she had thirty minutes to figure out where she was and get to the café.
Leese swore as a she made it outside and a crushing head ache took the place of the music’s pounding. Someone had slipped something in her drink last night, she knew it. It’d happened twice this month and she’d had enough. The first time she hadn’t minded because it had enhanced the experience. But this time…this time she would bet her entire year-salary that someone had slipped her a sedative and she’d passed out.
Yanking on her clothes, she made it to the elevator and out the lobby in record time. Turning back, she recognized the hotel and breathed a sigh of relief. That would mean the café was only one block down. Leese would just have to hope her high heels could get her there in time for her to at least straighten out her appearance in the bathroom. There were so many aches and pains reminding her of how stupid she’d been just a few hours ago.
She didn’t want to even think of what those bastards did to her unconscious body.