A trashed apartment and a gaping asshole.

Waking up Matt feels like he has been run over by a truck, repeatedly, as sensations flow into his body as he stirs more and more. His ass feels like it has been stretched out by a fucking log, his body feels all sticky and his jaw smarts. Somehow, in some weird way he still feel utterly satisfied and totally spent.

Lying perfectly still he savors the moment and the quiet, relaxing completely even as he remembers Andrea's visit along with the arrival of the two police officers. 'Man.. that was intense..'

For a few long minutes he lies still like this, letting it all flow over him and the room around him is perfectly still, no movement and no sounds. His cock hardens as he remembers the monumental fucking he received and the realization that he can never again live without girlcock hits him with full ****.

'I'm addicted.. I guess..' Opening his eyes to the familiar sight of his bedroom ceiling he takes a moment to collect himself before swinging himself upright and planting his feet on the bedroom floor. With Andrea being nor the police officers being nowhere in sight a clear goal emerges in his mind. 'I gotta go back. Tonight!' Moments later he is on his feet, moving through his apartment, taking in the 'damage' of the fucking that went down and getting more excited by the minute as the memories come flooding back.

Catching sight of himself in a mirror he takes in his battered state. 'I look like shit..' Resolving to clean himself up he takes action, cleaning off, shaving and dressing up nice. Thus about an hour later he is ready for a night on the town, bracelet clasped around his wrist.

"My life might be shit, but they like me at the club.." Matt says out loud to himself. "..lets go back!" Sometime later he's standing outside the club, a bouquet of expensive flowers he just spent his last dough on clasped in his hands as he steels himself to enter once more as he takes in the same flickering sign.

Taking a deep breath, he reaches for the door..