Take your leave

Your eyes flicker open again, the world nothing but brown hair. You breathe deeply through your nose, and smell perfume, sweat, and cum. There’s something warm under you, warm and wet. You groan as you sit up and off Jessica, still very much completely limp underneath you. The ceiling light is still on, so you weren’t out for too long you conclude. You scoot back, watching your rod depart her cunny, a sticky and syrupy mess of cum, grool, and ejaculate coating everything. You both quietly grunt as your cockhead undocks from her slit, allowing a thick trail of cum to drool out and down to her soiled dress. Meanwhile your cock is decorated in thick strands of cum and a frothy ring of Jessica’s grool. You wipe as much of the love juices off your member as you can, and then wipe that off on your leg. You stagger groggily to your feet, exceptionally aware of how shaky your legs are. Your knees knock together as you waddle over and pick up your shirt, briefs, pants, and shoes. You dress as quietly as you can. You feel your heart jump into your throat and eyes snap to Jessica when she starts mumbling in her sleep. She rolls over with a wet sucking sound, strings of cum stretching out to follow her as she faces away from you and then falls silent. You watch her ass, wet and gleaming in the light, and watch as a fresh rivulet of cum runs out of her pussy and across her toned thigh.

Nice work, you chuckle to yourself as you finish up getting dressed. You take your shoes in hand and tip toe on weak knees to the door. You grab the deadbolt lock and look back at Jessica. You slowly, very slowly, unlock the door and watch her to see if she moves. It opens with a click. You take one last look at Jessica as you inch the door open. She’s still out cold on top of her dress, cum dripping out of her pussy, and a stupid look on her face. You slip out and into the night.

It’s cold out. Really cold out. You rub your arms for warmth and twitch your burning nose. You can see your breath in what little light the stars give off as you walk across the abandoned yard. You walk up to the garden gate on the side of the house and try to open it. Locked. Damn. You double back and climb the stairs to the back door and the handle. It opens with a glorious click. There’s music playing inside, the air thick with the smell of sweat, smoke, and weed. You step over some poor bastard sprawled out on the floor, snoring. You hear the water running in the kitchen and see another guy rinsing vomit out his shoes. You make eye contact with him, frozen like a deer in the headlights.

“Don’t ask.” He says pointedly, and goes back to what he was doing. You walk through the light from the open bathroom door. Inside, you see a girl sitting on the vanity, bawling her eyes out and holding her friend’s hair up with one hand as her friend hurls wet chunks into the toilet bowl. You scoot past hopefully unnoticed. You walk into the living room turned dance floor and observe that it looks like a bomb went off in here. Multi-colored silly string hangs from the ceiling. Red solo cups are all over the floor. Picture frames of various awards hang cockeyed on the wall. There’s some guy laying on the floor wrapped up in a rug. There’s also some girl laying on the couch, murmuring and drooling, a shoulder strap on her little red dress having fallen off, and letting her fat tit pop out. You squint, and tiptoe over to the couch. It’s Marcy. You click your tongue.

“Well at least she didn’t get too far” you tut.