Sex with Another (The Frolics of Leslie and Marty Book 1) by I. M. Telling

Author:I. M. Telling
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Late Night Publishing
Published: 2014-12-06T05:00:00+00:00

Now

I see our car parked already in the Denny’s parking lot when my cab driver turns in. Even without having any coffee yet, the haze had started to clear. Someone told me once, the older you get – the worse the hangover. I believe that.

I pay the driver and climb out of the cab. It feels strange not wearing panties, I swear I can feel a draft but I’m sure it is my imagination. I wonder if Chuck will just toss them or keep them as a souvenir. I just hope he finds them. Christ, maybe I didn’t even have them when we got to his place last night… or rather this morning.

What is the proper way to look at it? It was nearly midnight when Marty and I went inside The Outfield Sports Bar last night. Technically, it was the next day already when I ordered my first drink. All I know was, it was dark… oh hell! Now I remember.

What was the name of Chuck's friend, the one who drove us home last night? Drove Chuck home that is, along with the woman he’d bagged… me. I remember Chuck tossing my panties at the back of his head from the rear seat. I breathed out, at least, that’s one mystery solved.

Oh my, more clarity…

When you’re drunk on your ass, you think you’re feeling fine and just a little dizzy at most. You say things and do things and it’s no big deal, you rationalize things. Everything you say sounds funny and witty.

“Hey Berry… don’t you want a blow job too?”

Yes, another mystery resolved. Chuck’s friend was Berry. I remember calling out to him through the open window now, as he drove away, my panties in the passenger seat next to him. Watching the cab driver pull away brought it all back to me.

I head to the front door of the restaurant where an old man and even older looking woman are just coming out. The old codger holds the door for me as I step inside.

“Thanks,” I mutter, but I’m not sure he hears me.

I see Marty sitting at one of the booths alone. I would not have been surprised if he’d had someone with him, considering. I’m glad he doesn’t though, that would be awkward. Marty is wearing the same clothes he had on last night. He looks like he’s had even less sleep than I have. His hair is rumpled and I feel the urge to remind him he needs a haircut.

Just a few feet from his booth now and he looks up from the coffee cup setting in front of him. I nod a greeting and he nods back. I slide into the seat across from him.

“You okay?” he asks.

I nod. The aroma from his cup is strong and I manage to open my mouth and mumble, “Coffee…”

“Tired?”

I give him an indifferent shrug. He seems more awake than I do and I wonder if he has been asleep at all; I’m guessing not. The server sets a cup down on the table in front of me and pours it full.

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