He is mine

We're comfortable exhibitionist

Chapter one

I was once again drowning in my vomit from last night’s party. It took me a while to finally get my vision un-blurred and the ringing in my ears to fade. Shit, I felt like utter shit. My hands were numb and my cheek and the whole front of my body was cold. Like every other night, I asked myself. What the hell happened last night?

After drinking and dancing out of my motherfucking mind, I kind of tuned out from there. Feeling the weight of an army tank on my body, I slowly leaned against the cold wall and only then did I realise where I was. In someone’s fucking shower.

Oh and the place looks king worthy.

If only I could remember whose shower this is. I felt like a totally fucked up Barbie doll right now and wouldn’t mind refreshing myself with a nice shower. Hey, if its right under my nose, why not.

I stripped out of my slutty dress clumsily, dragging the heels off with it. How I managed to keep them on was a mystery. I decided to shower with my undies on, couldn’t bother to take them off. I turned on the three-headed shower and gasped as the warm water washed the grime and filth of last night and probably this morning’s vomit.

Rinsing my hair with some strange dude’s shampoo that smelled fairly good, I washed my body with his soap too. Man, was I lucky, I ended up here. I turned off the shower and went to raid the cabinet, there was one toothbrush and yuck, I wouldn’t get caught using anyone’s toothbrush. I shrugged and smeared the toothpaste along my teeth and tongue. Soon I wasn’t tasting my own vomit anymore and instead I have a minty breath.

I know I couldn’t put my dress back on and my underwear is wet and feels disgusting. I took them off and wrapped a towel around myself. I grabbed a smaller towel and wrapped my hair with it. I went to step out of the bathroom and tripped over something. Holy crap…The room was like a grave yard. Dead bodies lay everywhere, well not everywhere and they aren’t dead, actually I see my best friend sprawled under the couch.

Ugh, best friend duty.

I took hold of her ankle and pulled her from under the couch with slight trouble. My hangover was still pounding my brain with a sledgehammer. I shake her by the shoulders and she was as still as death. I slapped, kicked and even bit her but she kept on soldering on.

I have a way with friends.

I decided to go back to my place and leave her there, its not like we weren’t used to it anyway. I could come back for her later, just once I figured out whose house this is. Well, it didn’t take me long to figure it our really, his huge portrait above his huge bed kind of gave me a hint.

But my memories were hazy, did I or did I not sleep with him last night? I kind of have this habit where I sleep with the person responsible for the party, actually its more like a sluttish thank you. Great party, let’s fuck or something like that.

I probably did, truth be told, he was kind of hot.

I shrugged and went down the winding stairs that seemed to go on forever in my miserably hangover state. This house is as empty as mine, except for all the bodies lying about upstairs. I go to parties but I don’t do parties. It’s a lot of work.