You sleep through two tests the next day. Jacob decides to take you out to make up for last night

The next day you don't wake up until late afternoon, missing a school day and two tests that you'd meant to study for last night. Then Jacob called, and...

"Oh God..." you groan, remembering the night. All you needed was a wicked hangover to match the blazing ache in your body; an ache that you were **** to look at. For a long moment you lay the way you'd awoken, with legs spread wide, unwilling to pull your sore thighs together just yet.

Eventually you slowly slip your way off the bed, grimacing at the bruised feeling that seems to coat your body and at the giant cum-stain.

"Great. I go through more bed sheets than I do clothes," you grouse, staggering into the window as you get off the bed.

Before you can think of doing anything the phone rings, making you jump with a pained yelp. Without a second thought you pick up the phone, realizing only after you've pressed it to your face that it's plastered with mostly dried semen.

"H-hello?" you manage, in spite of your grimace.

"Jenny!" an enthusiastic voice greets you, and you feel both guilt and pleasure fill you.

"Jacob!"

"Look, I feel bad about last night, so I'm going to make it up to you today."

Normally any date with Jacob would thrill you, but today you feel so raw from your many-hours with who knows how many men that you just want to curl up with an ice pack and watch tv.

"Oh. Well, that's okay, we don't need to..."

"Nonsense, I've got it all planned out. I'll be there in thirty."

"What? No, I need to take a shower, and..." you stop, hardly able to tell him that you need to break out the makeup to cover the bruises and hickeys that cover you.

"Look, I'll pick out something to wear. Just take your shower, leave the door unlocked, and I'll put some clothes on a hook for you to wear. I'm going to have to stay in the car, though, so no one steals it."

"Really, Jacob.... Jacob? Dammit, he hung up!"

Looking around with a sense of urgency now you snatch up your towels and bathroom kit, pluck up your smallest purse and toss in your wallet and some makeup. For a moment you eye the phone, but with its coating of sperm you decide to leave it behind until you get a chance to clean it.

Shrugging on your robe you grudgingly make your way down the hall, wincing a little with each step, praying that you don't see anyone between now and Jacob arriving.