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He had no doubt been carried away on a haze of empty Friday night possibilities. He would end up in the curry house with his friends, then to stagger home to his disillusioned wife, a half-watched DVD before sleep overwhelmed him on the sofa, beer-shits in the morning and an enforced day of domesticity. But he had hit upon a good question. My warm gassy lager was suddenly unappealing, and I had clearly had the last meaningful conversation in that pub for that night. I stood and began to walk out. It was just about the longest pub in town, swirling colours mixed with hope and desperation, failure and compromise. I plugged myself in and began to move, a step ahead. I found each gap between the glassy-eyed revellers and I noted them driving each other higher into the realms of the unreal, shouting out their deepest desires to others shouting just as loudly. I swerved and spun and pirouetted and was never touched, my balance impeccable, my decision making perfect, and after a mere four. First she needed to get dressed at the very least. She quickly threw on a thong, a pair of Tennessee Basketball shorts, and put on her cameo tank from Tennessee. Steph slowly made her way down the stairs to the main kitchen where the wonderful aroma was coming from. She felt like she needed a wheelchair because her legs weren’t really obeying her. This sucked. Note to self do not fuck like ever again. Even though she had to admit having an orgasm that huge to knock her right out was the best in the world. But the after effects weren’t all the fun. After what felt like twenty minutes of trying to get downstairs she finally made it. She hobbled into the kitchen to see Amanda sitting on the bar stool reading a book and sipping on her coffee. Amanda was just wearing an over sized white t-shirt with nothing on underneath it. Oh well it wasn’t like she was checking Amanda out but it wasn’t that hard to notice. The white shirt was practically see through. Amanda’s hair was all messed up..
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