Climb back in bed

You decide it would be easier to climb back in bed with your drunk of a boyfriend, so you slip your torn skirt back on and sneak back into the bedroom. He is still there on the bed passed out, now in a fetal position and snoring. You took a moment to just stare at him and imagine all the time you had spent together. Despite the fact that his behavior had been so gross tonight, you recalled some very fond memories. You clearly still loved him. None of this was going to be easy.

Eventually you climbed next to him, wrapping an arm around him, and willing yourself to sleep. Luke invaded your dreams. They were good dreams. Wet dreams. You were both on the ground again. This time he was in you, and you were consumed in lust. Just when he was about to cum, you saw your boyfriend glaring down at you in anger. He started calling your name at the same time that Luke was moaning it in your ear.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you said over and over. They both just kept repeating your name. "John, John, John!"

"John?" Wake up. You open your eyes. Luke is gone. You are back in the bedroom. Your boyfriend is shaking you some. "You were having a bad dream, I think. What happened to your skirt?"

You rub your head and come to your senses. "Oh. You don't recall? You ripped it... and my panties... when we had sex last night."

"I totally forgot all of last night," he said.

"Yeah. You owe me new clothes," you reply, thankful that he so easily bought it. "Anyway, I think it is time that we leave. I would like to change."

He drives you home. While on the way, you check your phone to see if Luke had called or sent a text. You are disappointed to find that he had not. Your boyfriend drops you off. He tries to get himself invited in, but you are aloof, telling him you are too tired and just want to sleep. He takes the hint and leaves. Then, you go and check your computer, hoping that maybe Luke had at least sent an e-mail. You decide that if he hasn't, then this will all have ended with the house party where it began. One way or another, it felt like the party was still lingering. You were still that lost girl who wondered away from her boyfriend, horny and easy prey, dazed by the pounding music of pleasure.