Go home; flash forward to the next day

I decided to call it a night shortly after Natalie had left, because there was no way I was going to be able to enjoy myself after what had just happened. I slept in the next day, stayed in bed for hours even after being fully awake, and barely ate. My mind kept circulating around what had happened the night before.

I was just about ready to go to bed when the doorbell rang. I had spent the whole evening moping to myself that I should have been more forward at the club, that I could have made it more clear that I was really interested in Natalie beyond just jizzing on her, that I should have handled the bukkake situation differently, that I shouldn't have cum in Maya's face while Nat was available... I had been going around in circles, wrestling with the conundrum of communicating to the girl whose holes I had gleefully stuffed that her holes meant more to me than those others I also stuffed regularly. Most people saw hole-hogging as selfish -- girls were meant to be shared, after all -- but what was a guy lacking in the communications department to do to signal his affections? I had just come around to accepting the fact that this shit was going to keep me up all night when the doorbell tore me out of my self-pity.

I couldn't believe my eyes. I had spent practically the whole day doing nothing else but think of her -- and here she was, just standing on my doorstep with the cutest of smiles on her little face, as if this was the most normal place in the world for her to visit at 3 in the morning. Once again, it struck me that whenever I saw her, she was even more beautiful than she was in my mind's eye -- something about the way she held her body and the way she moved that made her inimitable, unique, a sight to behold.

This evening, however, her posture was not quite as elegant as usual. She seemed to be having some trouble keeping herself upright and was leaning against the banister for support, swaying slightly and breathing heavily. Coupled with the fact that she was absolutely COVERED from head to toe in cum and spit -- most of it looking quite fresh -- that her make-up had smushed into one incohesive mess and mixed with her tears across her face, neck, and cleavage, and that she seemed to have some trouble speaking, it looked as if she'd had one hell of a night. Her tank top was torn in several places and her skirt was hitched up to her belly, exposing the shredded remains of her underwear still clinging to her crotch, which was oozing copious amounts of semen from both holes with every movement she made.

"Sorry for how my voice sounds," she croaked, evidently having some trouble pressing the words out of her throat, but grinning widely as she explained her evening to me. "Makayla and Zoe invited me to a blowbang with Mason's friends and never showed up, so I was the only girl there. It was absolutely brutal," she beamed, coughing up more cum and spit between sentences. "However..." she trailed off and looked sheepishly to the floor, absentmindedly flicking at a trail of jizz that was making its way down from her chin.
"Yes?"
"Well, seeing as they really destroyed my ass and pussy too... I can't really walk... plus my throat is sore as hell... and we were just around the corner from where you told me you lived... I thought I'd ask whether you might possibly let me crash here for the night?" She looked up at me with a puppy-dog expression that was only slightly marred by the fact that one of her eyes was plastered shut with dried semen and mascara.

I couldn't believe my luck. The woman of my dreams had just been violated in every way imaginable, rendering her unable to walk home -- and the first person she thought of was me! Evidently, I did figure into her thoughts more than I'd imagined, at least enough to make her remember that I lived near Mason's and might let her crash on my couch. She could just as easily have gone to Maya's place, which wasn't that far from here, but she chose to come to me instead. I was honoured, humbled, and overwhelmed all at once.

"If you don't have any room for me, that's okay, I just thought I'd take my chances," she mumbled, breaking my thoughts that were racing along at 300 miles per hour trying to make sense of the situation.