Rachel wakes in a stranger's apartment. It seems she's had a one-night stand

The swipe of a hot tongue against her cheek nearly made Rachel jump out of her skin, and the abrupt jolt upwards made her head feel like she'd nearly achieved that.

"Ow," she whined, cracking open her eye to see who was molesting her.

Soulful brown eyes stared back at her timidly.

"Uh, hi," she said nervously, staring at a large golden retriever. The dog wagged its tail just a little, and she realized it was looking at her with as much nervousness as she was looking at him.

"Good doggie. Don't bite me. Please. I'm going to get up," she said, and the dog wagged its tail again, watching as she slowly got her knees under herself and used the bed to raise up to her feet. "Good doggie."

Encouraged by the dog's tail wagging and even more by the large animal sitting on its hind legs, Rachel looked around slowly, her entire body feeling achy. She didn't recognize where she was, but with dawning horror she knew she was in a guy's apartment. The piles of clothes and dirty underwear was a sure sign. Not to mention the Penthouse calendar on the wall.

"Oh God," she groaned, clutching her head. Rachel had woken up in this situation before; she knew the signs of a drinking binge ending with a one-night stand. "Shit. Where are my clothes? Where's..."

She froze, staring at what she'd fallen off of a minute ago. It was a single-person bed with brown covers drawn up over a lump. If she dared get closer Rachel knew what she'd see; that lump wasn't a pillow, it was a man. But what kind of man? Was he fat? Slim? Young? Old? Dare she hope for handsome? Would it even matter?

"Clothes. Where are my clothes?" she asked the dog quietly, not to wake the lump. The dog unhelpfully tilted its head like it hadn't quite heard her.

Spotting what looked to be a pair of lace panties Rachel stooped slowly to fetch them from their place half under the bed, picking them up with a grimace. They seemed to have a large crusty stain in their center, and she was pretty sure she knew what it was.

"I don't remember this pair," she thought idly, but then she couldn't remember what she'd worn last night anyway. She stared in disgust at the stain, wondering if it was better to cover up with soiled panties or to go without and risk the lump waking and seeing her pantiless.