The Darkest Hour by Wayne Mansfield

Author:Wayne Mansfield [Mansfield, Wayne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: JMS Books LLC
Published: 2016-04-26T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

The following morning, I awoke in bed with Oliver beside me. I couldn’t for the life of me remember how we’d got there and I didn’t much care. There was a slight throbbing in my head to take care of, so I crawled out of bed and staggered into the en suite bathroom. I was busting for a leak, but now I was moving about, my head was pounding like a jackhammer. I pulled open the top drawer of the vanity and rummaged about for some headache tablets. There were four left. I was tempted to take the lot, but ended up taking only two. I had no doubt Oliver would be needing the others.

I placed the tablets and a glass of water on the bedside table beside Oliver then returned to the bathroom to get myself a glass of water. I put it on my bedside table and carefully crawled back under the covers. Thank God someone had had the decency to draw the curtains at some point. Even the pale light of an Aussie winter’s day would have been too much to handle in the state I was in, at…I looked at the alarm clock…nine past nine on a Saturday morning!

I closed my eyes and fortunately it required no effort to fall back asleep.

At some point I became aware of a body pushing up against mine. I felt the stabbing of something rigid in the space between my arse cheeks. Was it real or in a dream? I tried to push it away and whether I succeeded or failed I couldn’t say. I was back in a deep sleep before the mystery was solved.

I woke up, properly, at twenty-seven past eleven later that morning. I heard the shower in the en suite bathroom and had a wicked thought. I should go and join him. Then I thought about it a bit more. If I joined him, there’d be love making. And if there was lovemaking—I hated to think it—but there very well might be vomiting. My head throbbed. My mouth was dry. My whole body ached from the exertion of the previous night. And if I was completely honest, Oliver must have given my arsehole quite a work out because even that ached.

The shower went silent. I heard Oliver quietly hum a few bars of a song then stop.

I smiled contentedly. It felt good to have another soul in the house.

I heard him drying himself, and the flap of the towel. Then he urinated, washed his hands, and gargled with Listerine. Then silence. What was he doing?

He appeared, his eyes upon me.

“Hello, sunshine,” he said.

“More like rain cloud.”

Oliver jumped on the bed. On all fours he crawled up over me and kissed me.

“Rain cloud?”

“Everything is throbbing,” I said.

He reached down and grabbed my cock. “This isn’t throbbing.”

“Everything except that,” I said, correcting myself.

“Can I get you some coffee?” he asked.

“You’re my guest.” I sat up and stars began to swirl in front of my eyes. I felt suddenly bilious.

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