{Keira}

The Morning After

 

Moments are an essential part of how we decide to celebrate life. That’s why I love mornings. It’s basically my favorite part of the day. On a daily basis, I get out of the bed and have a little cozy, stretching-up moment out of restriction and raise the blinds to let the sunshine sweep through. I like to take a few minutes for myself and set up my resolutions for the day, maybe tidy up a little, and then have a cup of cranberry tea with half a lemon slice spuming on the top. After that, I spoil myself with a nice breakfast portion filled with fibers and grain.

Yeah, I’m one of those people who are addicted to little details.

It’s a compulsion. I can’t help it.

Anyway. Just like any other morning, I wake up this time, doing my stretchy thingy and then put my hands for comfort on the sheets. Everything seems normal until now. The light of the morning has filled the room and I realize it must be one of those days when I have forgotten to have put the blinds down. I must’ve been bleary last night, obviously. Well, that’s not much to say, considering that I am already bleary. You know what I do in a bleary morning? A large mug of cold black citrus tea! This seems to do the trick.

I don’t know why I feel so cockeyed, as if I’ve had a drink-free unrestraint. And I’m not even the person to drink in the first place. But I don’t have a clue what last night must have been like, or where this outcome’s coming from.

Anyway, beside the blackout, it feels just like one of my ordinary mornings, until I decide, for my own comfort, to glide my hands down the sheets, which is like a thing that I do, which is the closest I get to stretching-it-out on an entire day. (I’m a little dreary; you might give me that.) Let’s get back to the point, anyway. Out of my own dizziness, I realize that my equilibrium isn’t actually adjusted properly. One of my hands seems to tangle with the sheets closer than the other. At this point, I don’t seem to give it much of a thought, convincing myself that one of my many pillows must have disarrayed and made a mess in my bed. That is until I make out that, after the many attempts to adjust it, my hand is entwined with something that feels like a…

Boner?

I try to wash the dizziness off in a flash, and take a look at what seemed to have totally ruined my morning sereneness.

Oh, my God. Let me try again. This is nothing like an ordinary morning!

An ordinary morning wouldn’t imply a naked strange man (yet ripped and husky—but that wouldn’t make up for it anyway) having the best drowse of his life on my bed.

Oh, wait! This isn’t my bed!

It doesn’t take long for me to naughtily ditch my blurriness and pore around to take the room into scrutiny. This looks nothing like my room. Of course, I don’t own an Austin master bedroom with tremendous windows that make up for walls and an astonishing view form the adjacent lot.

What is this place and what am I doing in it? And most importantly, who is this man and why is he sharing the bed with me, or vice versa?

Do I need to wake him? I mean, probably I do. After all, I’ve spent the night with him. My blood flows hastily through my veins and I flush angrily when some devious idea hits me. I hope nothing kinky has taken place last night in this very bed, or I’d be really pissed. No longer than a second later I realize what a silly idea this was. How would a man lie nakedly in your bed and not have hit it raw?

I’m so ticked off with myself right now. How did I allow myself to get into this…mess???

I get out of the bed covering my breasts with the white blanket, which glides along slowly and out of his body. Great! Now I can see his full unclothed body, no restrictions included. As if this day couldn’t get any worse. I shake off my little distraction and spot my pink lingerie nestling on the natural palette rug. I roll in my underclothes and then frown with irritation, after realizing that my shorts are nowhere to be found, and so is my top.

I take a careful look throughout the room to find them thrown rowdily on the sitting area across the other part of the room, hanging down pettily from the edge. I hurry my way to it and start having them on one by one. I’m so confused and ticked at these events, I totally have kept the guy out of sight. That’s why it gets me jumping when a mumbling voice breaks through the silence that surrounded me a second prior.

“You’re awake already, huh?” I turn around to meet his face. There’s a naughty smirk on it that I wanna tear off. “So, you’re the hit it and quit it kind of girl, aren’t you?”

He looks so beautifully there, built up in muscles, brown disorderly hair, huge strong arms, and the most annoying smirk of the decade. How come he’s nowhere near being confused, as I am, to have a strange girl waddling across his bedroom? He must be used to it, I assume.

“Why so quiet today?” he nestles his head above his forearm, which puts highlight to his biceps. “I could barely keep you under control last night.”

I need to slap myself not to get distracted.

“I don’t know you.” I mumble stupidly. He must be so entertained now at how foolish I am acting.

“It didn’t seem to stop you last night.”

“Well, I don’t remember a thing about last night.” I say, annoyed. “So, you might as well not bring it to my attention.”

“Okay, I get it you like to be a little bossy. Are you like this with all the guys? I could barely keep you from begging me to ram my hard, beautiful cock into your pussy.”

“How dare you talk to me like that?”

“Nuh-uh. These are your words.” He said conceitedly.

He was probably messing with me. How on earth could I have ever let myself fall so low as to spend a kinky night with a random stranger, whom I remembered nothing about? This didn’t sound like me at all.

Right now, I would’ve been enjoying my delicious cranberry tea, and instead, I was having a hard time putting the clothes on after waking up nakedly on the bed of some random guy.

Yeah, no, this wasn’t me.

“Are you gonna leave now and act like a total stranger?” he kept going on with his mockery. I tried to ignore it, but it was hard to when a random guy couldn’t just keep his mouth shut for a few seconds. “Okay, I’ll pretend I never met you and never heard you begging for my cock.”

Hearing this, I had this unbearable incitement to punch him on the face, and usually I wasn’t even the aggressive one. Or maybe I was! Right now, there were hidden sides of me coming up to the surface.

“Okay, Keira. That isn’t even the door. Do you see a doorknob there? I don’t think so. Don’t you remember where we got in from last night?” he kept acting like a smart-nonchalant-ass. But it was easy to since I was giving him all the reasons to act this way. Like, God! I was making a fool of myself trying to get out from the glass-walls.

I’d been so involved with that not so glorious moment and almost let something intriguing slip by. How come he gets to know my name, while I couldn’t put up with the fact that I was lodging in a foreign bedroom in the first place? Obviously, a lot of things must’ve happened last night. Things that I couldn’t remember a thing about. So unfortunate!

“So, this is a goodbye, huh?” he pretended to put a sad face on, while I was scrambling the room for the door to find it across the built-in closet that seemed like an alternate, individual room. “So, I guess I won’t ever see you again?” he asked and looked confused.

“Probably, not.” I said firmly and made it out of the room.

I take with me the guilt also, that seems to be swaying in me like a crazy train that had lost its track. The dizziness is still there, but somehow, I manage to ignore it. It doesn’t stand out to me as unbearable and undignifying as this night does. So, I let all the hurtful glory conquer me as I’m staying incapably in the center.

The best thing that I can do for myself at this point is to once and for all forget about this night.

But what hurts the most is that somehow part of me doesn’t want to. Some strange, unbidden, irresolvable part wants to stay tangled with this man for a while longer.

Well, sorry, my inner, concealed, unnegotiable part! I’m already gone now, and chances are I’ll never get to see this man again.

Well, that is how I get out of that astonishing mansion trying to stay undistracted by its magnificence, while trying to set up an apology for this bizarre part that somehow feels tangled up with this place.

The crisp, outdoorsy air splashes on my face once I approach the driveway and take a final look at the house, which I just came out of. Wow, is this really where I spent the night? And I remember nothing about it? Wow! Gotta love insobriety.

Trying to deal with the messy hangover that seems to be swaying me on edges piece by piece, I rummage rapidly through the back of my jean-shorts, bringing out of the pocket my phone to scroll through my Uber app and call for a car.

Meanwhile, waiting for my Uber driver, hurting feelings take place and it seems like I’m just escaping from a place I think I didn’t make the most out of. Or maybe I did, but just don’t remember a thing about. Which is way more upsetting. And it seems like I’m reciting the same mantra to myself over and over again…

Sorry, not sorry!