Queen Bitch

A Hangover Classic

Light beamed from the blinds in Roger's room highlighting the smoke particles in the room. A strong aroma filled the room last night, it was a sweet burning smell sharp and pungent. rotten Broccoli like plants were scattered on the floor along with a few bottles of liquor.

His alarm clock blared for the million time, this time at 12:00am. He let out a massive groan before rubbing his eyes with his cut and burnt fingers from rolling weed last night. He tugged his hand under his pillow looking for a rectangular object. He switched his phone on, expecting a message or even a snap from her. His eyes dimmed as he realized there was nothing from her, not even a racy snap.

This wasn't the first time she has forgotten about him. Lately she had been acting distant. she used to call him every night when the lust for him arrived, they whispered to each other whilst they grinded between their bed sheets. she wanted to hang out with him less often. he used to love sleeping alone but it was even better when she brought her friend with her and not going to sleep at all. she never catched him with them sneaky pictures or did she, was that why she was distant? She used to ask him if he did this everyday day, he said often. she knew he could make that pussy rain often.

He shuddered in excitement when those memories whirled through his mind but then felt regret of never feeling like that again.

He was hungover as hell. His head ached, his head spun at the same time, he was dizzy, sleepy, confused and thirsty, his throat was parched. trying to some to his sense, he realized he was hungover as hell. Just because the woman with key to his heart didn't seem to responding to him wasn't going to stop the hell bent teachers from having a go at him. Morning sex was always a good way of getting rid of a hungover tactic for him, but for now he just had to google 'how to get rid of a hangover'.

He dragged himself out of bed and realized the pretty hickeys that patterned his neck had faded, they were almost gone. it was not like him to have an empty neck. He treated his body as a canvas where he painted memories on, to show he is not perfect and is merely living life.

The memories of them making out came back to him. he was face to face with her, just her looking at him gave him the chills as he knew she was his. After deeply looking into her eyes, he let out a slight smirk, brushed her hair as he moved his lips towards hers, starting with gentle movements. Then he grabbed her butt and this time went in more viciously. The she paused and bit his bottom lip and started progressing down his neck. Shots of pain moving down his neck releasing some sort of satisfaction.

He couldn't take it anymore. these great memories were killing him as she wasn't with him going slow, seeing the pain and the pleasure with their bodies together. This place they had together was so pure dirty and raw. He would love to be in bed all day, all night, fucking in as its their paradise, as its their war zone.