1. Missing Time


    Date: 10/7/2017, Categories: Hardcore, Author: TheTravellingMan, Rating: , Source: LushStories

    With a start, he woke up clasping a pillow in a light, airy bedroom. Beams of watery winter sunlight hurt his eyes and forced them closed. He took some air through his nostrils; they filled with a hint of perfume and the faint musky smell of sex. He had no idea where he was. Rolling onto his back, his body complained with a dull ache and so did his morning glory. His mind blank, whatever he had done and whoever he had done it with - it had been strenuous, very strenuous. He ventured to open his eyes again and slowly regained focus as he ran his fingers through his hair. The mattress was soft and seductively tempting him back to sleep – his racing mind had other ideas. “Hello?” It was a gruff croak; his dry mouth had a terrible metallic taste to it. He cleared his throat the best he could and tried again a little louder, “Hello?” Nothing. He did not recognise these surroundings. As his torpid brain rifled through his memories, he had never been so drunk that he could not remember what had happened. His anxiety levels began to rise and his head began to pound; a sonorous dull thump marked time with his beating heart. Office Christmas Party, drinking games with Ned, Soup, Jonesy and Stella. Licking salt off Stella’s tits, necking Tequila, thrusting his face into her cleavage to bite on the lemon nestled there. A quiet groan left him, “Oh fuck.” Stella taking his hand and saying, “I have something to show you, come on, you’ll like it.” Whilst he had never been to Stella’s flat, ...
    they had something of an arrangement. She was a port in a storm, a booty call, a friend with benefits. A fuck buddy. His head hurt too much, he had to stop. He had to pee too; his bladder was full. Finding the bathroom, his mind had built up a momentum of its own and unleashed another torrent of memories. His recollection had an ethereal quality; it felt vague and lacked the clarity he sought. The accompanying images were blurred or missing. At the party, pulling up her dress and pressing her against the cubicle wall. Her parted legs wrapped around his hips and he thrust his raging cock inside her. Filling her and feeling her cossetting tight warmth, he heard her gasp as he penetrated her. Soft moans as he stabbed himself inside her, fucking her urgently. Kneeling before him as she sucked the load from his cock, looking into his eyes as Stella took it all. Fucking her in the hotel toilets of all places, it was the office Christmas party. His boss and the executives, everyone was there - all five hundred of the bastards. They were sure to find out and there would be ramifications. His heart sank and panic set in. To the sound of flushing water, he saw the bathroom cabinet and felt hope that there might be some painkillers. He did not dwell on the mirror but this undercurrent of anxiety swelled up when confronted with a new terror – his appearance. “Shit!” He pulled with his fingers at the skin on his neck, small oval shaped purple marks dotted on both sides of his neck and well ...
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