In Phoebe’s room

“Fuck it,” I say, “I already fucked up tonight. May as well sleep in a bed.”

Phoebe claps her hands, “I’ll be a perfect angel. No worries. We’ll fix this in the morning. Your wife had a lot to drink. She may not remember.”

HA! My wife not remembering why she’s angry at me? Never going to happen. Especially when she saw me inside another woman. She’s never forgetting that.

Joey grumbles, “I can’t believe I have to sleep on the couch. I didn’t put my dick in anyone.”

“Yeah. You’re just an asshole,” says Phoebe.

I’m so drunk. I don’t care about getting ready for bed. Phoebe can smell my gross bourbon breath the whole time. As soon as I walk into her room, I strip down to my boxer briefs and climb into bed.

Without shame, Phoebe strips nude in front of me. I can’t deny she has the sexiest little body: petite with a perfect thickness in her hips. She pulls on some shorts and a t-shirt. She grabs a toothbrush and heads to the bathroom. At least she’s being considerate after she ruined my life.

I’m almost asleep when Phoebe wakes me up with a kiss on my cheek. “Goodnight sweetie.”

I grumble then wrap my arm around her. I hug her tight. She spoons her little body against mine. Her soft ass rubs my thighs.

What am I doing!? I never cuddle to fall asleep. I always turn to my own side. Fuck. I’m drunk and still horny as fuck. My body only wants to do one thing. I would fight against what my body wants but the last of that bottle of bourbon has finally hit me. I have no more willpower.

Fuck it.

I comb Phoebe’s black hair behind her ear and whisper, “I want to fuck you.”