You awaken again

"I swear I will kick you if you don't stop yelling like that!" comes the voice to your left.

You roll over and regard the shapely curves of your companion, barely obscured under your thin blankets. Her short, deep-red hair lays frazzled against the pillow, and she glares at you with an expression that somehow manages to be equal parts amusement and annoyance. You realize you must have been talking in your sleep. Based on her reaction, you have to assume that the difficulty you had speaking in your dream did not translate into difficulty speaking in reality. You have no idea how loud you were talking to yourself, but it must have been quite a disturbance.

Enough light trickles in through the window that it must be morning, or possibly midday. You have no idea how long you were asleep, and you'd have to roll away from your bedmate to look at your alarm clock. While your latest dream of flying above that mysterious city still lingers in your mind, you tell yourself that you had better focus on the real world for the time being. You try to recall the events of the previous evening.

You remember Ben convincing you to go out for a drink with he and Tara. You recall a vague sense of annoyance at learning your friends had an idea of trying to fix you up with one of Tara's friends. You also remember that annoyance fading very quickly once you spent a little time with said friend. You try to focus through the morning's mental fog, the hangover, and the dull headache that comes with it to remember her name. You don't want to be one of those guys who forgets a woman's name after they fuck, and although your memory of parts of the previous night are a little spotty, you are at least 98% sure that you did fuck, and that it was pretty good.

"Come on, I know you're awake, Henry," she says as it dawns on you that you've been more or less staring at her while lost in thought. "Nobody talks in their sleep that loud."

You're still trying to pinpoint her name. You remember her modest-but-attractive tits, her beautiful, shaved pussy, and her amazing, irresistibly round ass. You even remember the incredible blowjob she gave you at the bar. But what was her name? Clarissa? Clara? Claire? You're fairly confident that was it.

"Sorry for the rude awakening, Claire" you say, only hoping you got that right. "I hope you had a decent sleep, at least."

"Honestly, I slept like a log," she replies. "I always do after a good workout. And last night? That was a good workout."

You smile, pleased that you made an impression last night. You tell her that you slept pretty well too, albeit with odd dreams.

"I always have the strangest dreams after drinking," Claire confesses. "Like last night, I had this dream that I was eating french fries with with a giant, talking penis that kept telling me it wanted to be king. It had a little crown and everything and... well, I'm getting a headache just thinking of it."

You have to smile at that. It's no haunting, recurring dream like yours, but definitely strange. You sit up in bed and look at the clock. Just after 10:00, definitely earlier than you would have thought. Under normal circumstances, between the late night and the hangover you'd probably just go back to be. That isn't really a plan you should entertain when you have company, though. Claire sits up next to you, the blanket sliding down her body and giving you a nice, clear look at her pale, soft breasts, the two rounded handfuls drawing in your gaze and keeping it. You shift around a little under the blanket, trying to conceal your growing erection.

"Henry, you're staring again," Claire remarks with a laugh. "I guess you like what you see."

You definitely do, and you tell her as much. Even with a bad case of bedhead and the remains of last night's smudged makeup, Claire is still pretty cute. She stretches in bed, which only further thrusts her chest forward. You're pretty sure she did that on purpose, reveling in your attention.

"Well there are definitely worse ways to wake up in the morning than looking at a nice pair of tits," you joke. "I just wish I didn't have this hangover."

"Well, I know one way to get rid of a hangover," Claire says with a devilish grin.

Before you can say anything else, she has dived under the blanket. You feel her hot breath on your crotch, then a second later she has stuffed your already-hard cock into her mouth. Although you can't see what she's doing under the covers, you can definitely feel the effects. Claire is once again giving you an incredibly hot, skilled blowjob. This time you know it's not just the **** or the mood talking. She's really good at giving head.

As Claire moves up and down your member, licking, sucking and doing everything she can to give you a good morning, all you can really do is settle in and enjoy it. It doesn't take long before you feel your orgasm building up. You're about to warn Claire when she intensifies her efforts, quickly stroking your shaft with one hand while licking and sucking your tip. Seconds later, you're cumming in her mouth, unleashing an enormous load of sperm into her. When you're through, she slides your cock out of her mouth and you hear her swallow your load with a gulp.

"Mmm, breakfast in bed," she purrs as she emerges from beneath the sheets. "Just what I needed to get over that hangover."

"I've never heard of a blowjob being a hangover cure," you say.

"Well, Henry, are you thinking about that headache now?"

"No."

"Are you thinking that you regret drinking too much last night now?"

"Well, no."

"Then hangover solved!" she cheers.

You both share a laugh as you get out of bed. Claire notices the time and starts to collect her clothing from your bedroom floor. She bends over in an exaggerated fashion as she gets dressed, loving every second that she knows your eyes are fixed on her meaty, voluptuous buttocks.

"I had a really good time last night," she says after she finishes dressing, expressing a sentiment you definitely agree with. "I don't know what your expectations are, or what you were thinking of last night, but if you ever wanted to hang out again, I'd certainly be up for taking another crack at that."

She gestures towards your still-semi-erect penis, thoroughly not concealed by the thin layer of undergarments you pulled on while she dressed herself. She looks in your mirror and attempts to tidy herself. She isn't as successful if she may have liked, but at least now she doesn't look like she was up all night having hot, drunken sex. You exchange phone numbers, and you offer to call her a cab, remembering that your car is still parked downtown, outside your office. She tells you she'll just catch a bus; there is a stop not far from here and she lives on the route.

"Thanks again for last night," she says, giving you a squeeze before heading to the door. Her hands linger briefly on your ass before she withdraws. "Next time, I'll be the one haunting your dreams."

"And I'll be the giant penis eating fries in yours?" you add with a laugh.

She smiles and heads out the door, leaving you alone with your thoughts.