Where Are My Panties? Part 1of 3

I never imagined that my first thought the morning following my 30th birthday would be, "where are my panties?" However, for better or worse this happens to be the thought sprinting across my foggy mind at this moment as I sit up straight in this comically large bed. For that matter, where are my bra, pants, and heels? I am also wondering whom this person lying next to me snoring like a wildebeest. He is cute though, even with his bright red unkempt curly locks and matching sparsely tamed beard.

My second thought is to run. In this current situation, that seems rather silly if not blatantly illegal. Swallowing that primal motivation, I decide it better that I cautiously spill myself out of bed slowly planting my feet into the soft chocolate carpet of this rather well designed bedroom. Walking… rather creeping unsteadily to the bathroom I catch sight of my discarded clothing and, thank god, my cell phone.

Closing the bathroom door behind me I immediately wiggle back into the smoky skin of yesterday. Now that I am clothed, I can at least think about where I am and how I got here. After a few minutes of flipping through my phone looking at last night’s pictures and text messages, the night starts to come back to me. After a few too many gin and tonics, Mystery Boy and I ended up back at his place. I do not remember how it started, exactly, but I do remember.

This boy smells like cinnamon, adrenaline and cigarettes as he is nibbling the tender nape of my neck. Somehow, in the circumstances this particular combination is more intoxicating than a fifth shot of Stoli. His hands are exploring my body through the fabric of my tank top, until I find myself topless and helpless and I love it.

He lays me down on his plush carpet and the fibers tickle the supple skin of my back and thighs. It is only now that I can feel the warmth of his body as he puts his weight on me. He sits upright and removes his shirt in one fluid movement. His hairy chest is slick with sweat and now pressed up against my exposed tits. His skin is soft but slightly rough and stunningly responsive to my hands as they hold tight to his hips and shoulders mimicking the rhythm of his movements.

He is good.

I cannot help but to think that I may not be the first damsel he’s brought back to his castle. My mind wanders into the sticky abyss of trysts pass, for a moment, until I am jerked back by the feeling of my too short skirt and panties had, seemingly, evanesced into the ether.

His head is barely visible with his entire mouth buried deep in my pussy. The wet noises, slurps and licks, turn me on even more. When he realizes I am watching, he looks up and gives a knowing smile licking his lips. The whiskers of his mustache are satisfyingly prickly against my clit adding to the finger and tongue combination making my legs shudder with each lashing of his flat wet tongue.

Through sharp breathes I manage to whisper, “I’m going to cum”. To him it probably sounds more like, “I’m… gonna… ooh... cum!” My legs clamp shut and hold his head in place, but he does not stop. He keeps licking and fingering my now swollen and, for the moment, satiated pussy. He only sops once my legs have loosened their vice grip as I fall into a post orgasmic coma.

After catching my breath and returning to stasis, I open my eyes to see him watching me. He is sitting on the couch staring down looking over every inch of my body as I writhe around enjoying the heightened sensations arousal brings.

He is beautiful.

His body is tight but chubby, hairy but smooth. He has a youthful look in his bright emerald eyes, and I can tell this isn’t the end of what he has planned for me.