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From: The Traffic Guy <TrafficGuy@NOSPAM.Nighthawk.sytes.net>
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Subject: {ASSM} Morning After {Traffic Guy}{MF, Oral, Rom}
Date: Tue, 31 Dec 2002 15:12:26 -0500
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Even though this doesn't take place on New Year's Day, it seems 
appropriate to post at this time of year.

Comments are welcome at trafficguy8@subro.dnsq.net or at the
above 
address by removing NOSPAM. from the address.

Happy New Year!

<1st attachment, "The Morning After.txt" begin>

"The Morning After"

By Traffic Guy

Copyright 2002


As I tried to pry one eye open to see the clock on the bedside
table, I once again wondered why in hell I had allowed myself to
drink so much.  The pounding in my skull, the aftertaste in my
mouth, the ugly feeling in my stomach - gee, I guess I overdid
it, huh?  After a determined effort to focus, I found I could
make out the red numbers (how appropriate!) - 11:16.

Since it was light out, it had to be in the morning.  That was a
bit of a surprise...

There was movement and a moan behind me.  

Uh, oh.  I don't remember having a roommate.  The moan sounded
vaguely feminine - okay, it wasn't one of my football buddies I
invited over to get an early start watching games today.  

Now, the big question.  Do I look first?  

Or do I slide out, escape to the bathroom, do some things to wake
me up and make me look (and smell) a little more presentable?

Curiosity won out.  I gradually turned over to see who, or what,
was in bed next to me.

Now, before I go on with this, I want you to understand that I'm
not in the habit of picking up girls at bars.  In fact, while I'm
not celibate, I'm not really in the habit of picking up girls at
all.  I tend to try to get to know someone I see on a regular
basis, become friends and then move on to the 'finer' things for
a while before something changes and we end up parting, usually
friends again, always amicably.  And I'm not above revisiting
some of these 'friendships' from time to time to our mutual
satisfaction.  But I NEVER do things like that on a haphazard
basis.

Drinking to oblivion is a very rare thing for me, and when it
happens, it's either with my football buddies or alone.  So
waking up with a hangover and a girl is something that just
doesn't happen.

Until now.

So now I'm looking at a mass of blonde, tussled hair and an
indeterminate shape under my comforter.

"Ahem."

No reaction.

"Uh, hello there."

"Mmph."

Okay, a response, albeit not much of one, and still not enough to
find out what I'm looking at.  So I reach out for what should be
a shoulder and try a more direct approach.

"Listen, wake up.  Who are you and how did you get here?"

"Ohmygod," came the slurred response.  Definitely female and,
apparently, as hung over as I was.

"Yeah, ohmygod indeed," was my witty response.  "Uh, do you need
to..."

"Whereisit?" came the moaning reply, "I feel like..."

"Through the door in front of you," I barely got out before the
shapeless mass disappeared and a nude, definitely female shape
scrambled into the bathroom, apparently in time to spew into my
toilet bowl - I hoped.

While the blonde was taking care of business in my lone facility,
I started taking stock of my condition.  

As usual, while definitely hung over, my stomach was behaving. 
Dad always said I had a cast iron stomach, just like him.  Nice
to see I got that set of genes.  So, while I wouldn't mind
getting in the shower and shaving, etc., there was no pressing
need.  It appeared to be just as well, as from the sounds I was
hearing, blondie would be worshipping the porcelain god for a
while.

Okay, now what?  Since there was a pause in the retching, I
ventured to obtain a little more information.  

"Miss, is there something I can get you?  And could you tell me
your name?"

After a couple spits, the shaky voice replied, "I'm Rita, and, I
think a cold washcloth would help."

"It's right..." I was about to say it was right above her, but
realized she was asking because she didn't think she could move
far enough to get it herself.  Oh, well, I needed to see the
damage sooner or later, and despite my sensitivity to her
condition (i.e. nude and helpless), I really didn't mind being
somewhat forced to get a better look at my guest.

Even hunched over the bowl, I could tell Rita was a good-looking
gal.  Legs shapely and tight, ass firm and smooth, stomach fairly
flat (from what I could see) and a nice, moderate and solid
looking pair of tits hanging just before the bowl, or, at least,
the right one was, which is the one I could see as I came in.  So
she obviously kept herself in shape.  Blonde hair on top,
although with darker roots - a bleached or bottle blonde.  

I noticed that she had made it in time as I grabbed the washcloth
and wetted it down with cold water.  I reached down and touched
her hand with it.  Without looking up, she took it and wiped her
face with it, then asked "Is it clean?"  

I told her it was there for guests and hadn't been used, so she
put it in her mouth and sucked on it.  "Thanks," she mumbled,
"that helps a lot."

"Do you have any special hangover remedies I could put together
for you?"

"No, not really."  Then a little wryly, "believe it or not, this
is my first one."

I held back a laugh, trying to be polite.  "So, was it worthit?"

"Ask me that in a couple days..."

"If you don't mind, I'm going into the kitchen to clean up
and..." I was going to mention fixing myself some food, but
decided against it... "get some things ready for later today."

"Of course.  Uh, Mr. Barclay?"  Interesting, at least she knew my
name...

"Tom, please, given the circumstances."

"Tom, could you find my clothes, please?"

"Oops, sorry.  Be right back."

I went into the bedroom and started poking around.  Nothing. 
Ditto in the kitchen.  In the living room I found a coat that
wasn't mine on the back of a chair, and then, in the entranceway,
a pile of clothing.  A small pile of clothing.  A very small pile
of clothing.  As in, a lacy bra, thong panties and a couple of
black thigh high stockings.  Oh yeah, and a pair of high heels,
also black, and very shiny.  Where the hell was I last night and
who the hell was Rita?

Back to the bedroom I went, carrying the panties and bra, and
headed for the closet, where I pulled out one of my long sleeve
patterned work shirts and then rummaged in a drawer for a pair of
my baggier shorts.  

"How's it going in there?"  I asked, just to kind of keep things
moving along.

"Better," came the reply in a slightly stronger voice.  "I'm
going to try to stand up at the sink."

"Do you want me there, just in case...?"

"No, no, that's alright.  If I feel faint I'll just go right back
on the floor."

I heard movement, then the tap turned on and I could hear signs
of her using the washcloth, then apparently gargling some water
and spitting it out.  

"There's mouthwash in the cabinet."

"Thanks.  Could you hand me my clothes, please?"

I walked over to the door, for some unknown reason averting my
eyes, and handed her the bundle I'd put together.

After a moment, I heard her gasp, and then, a sigh.  "Oh.  Thank
you very much."

"You're most welcome.  When you feel up to it, I'll be in the
living room.  We appear to have a lot to talk about."

"Yes," came the quiet reply, "Yes, we do."

------------------------------------------

After about ten minutes she came out, looking fairly chipper and
filling out my shirt and shorts rather nicely.

Nice, pretty face with brown eyes, the hair combed out and down
over her shoulders.  She looked about my age, 30ish, and, as I
mentioned before, obviously kept herself in good shape.

We sat in separate chairs facing the sofa, although it seemed
Rita glanced at it (longingly?) as she passed by.  I had had some
time to try to reconstruct my memory of the night before, but
only had some bits and pieces.  What I seemed to remember was...
different.  I mean, I had images of a private football party at
Bill's house for the Ohio State/Michigan game.

That in itself wasn't so different.  What was different was that
Bill apparently had arranged for some 'extra' entertainment - in
the form of Rita.  Which was shocking in itself, as I had known
Bill and Lisa for a long time (Lisa was a 'friend' before
marrying Bill), and I'd never had any indication that he had that
kind of interest, or connections.

I mean, there we were, the two of us, in his den watching the
game on his big screen TV (which is why we always watched it
there), and halftime comes, and instead of Lisa bringing out
drinks and food, here comes Rita.  

I seem to remember her doing a bump and grind, starting out in
more clothes than what ended up in my apartment, and Bill
toasting the action with bourbon (I of course, being a good
guest, tried to keep up), and that's about as far as my memory
went.

There was also the impression that my Buckeyes won, which would
explain my drinking enough to be in the condition I was upon
awakening.  Nothing else seemed to stick.

So, here we were, a pretty blonde 'entertainer' and a usually
cautious bachelor about to take part in a 'morning after'
discussion. 

"So, Rita, why are you here?"  Okay, okay, blunt and almost rude,
but hey, I never said I was a charmer.

"I'm here because you invited me here.  Don't you remember?"

"No, I don't.  It's not that I don't believe you, it's just that
this isn't like me..."

"I know," came the soft answer, and I saw an interesting look in
her eyes.

"Just how much do you know?  And since you know my last name,
could I know yours?"

"Bill and Lisa filled me in on a lot of things, especially Lisa.
And my last name is Matthews."

Something tickled a deep memory.  I waited a moment for it to
take hold, but it didn't.  Something didn't quite match up. 
Meanwhile, I had a delayed reaction to the earlier part of her
statement.  "Lisa filled you in?  On what?"

She actually blushed.  "Your tendencies and preferences, of
course."

"You mean," I stammered, "my sexual preferences?"

"Yes."

What the hell is going on here?  "Why would she do that?"

"So that I would be sure to do a good job..."

"Lisa and Bill set me up with a, a...."

"NO."  Defiantly.  "I am NOT a hooker."

"Well, then, what are you?"

She looked away for a moment, then looked directly into my eyes
and said,  "You were wonderful last night."

"Bullshit!"  

Well, now you know I was not in my right mind.  I mean, if I was
normal, I would have gladly accepted that statement from any girl
and looked for ways to be 'wonderful' again today.  But today
seemed to not be my day for acting normally.  

"Look, I know how much I had to drink and I know my capabilities.
 There is no way..."

"That you could get it up.  I know.  You didn't.  But, all the
same, you were wonderful.  Even drunk, you weren't sloppy or
mean, you were nice and considerate, you held me and cuddled me
and made me feel safe."  She took a moment and licked her lips. 
"And I'd like to thank you for that."

Sproing!  Another party heard from.  

My mind was still turning over questions and possibilities and
fighting to maintain my 'normal' attitudes towards relationships.
 However, my dick was a lot more interested in those glistening
lips, and another pair of lips hidden behind those baggy shorts.

If the plan was to weaken me for this moment, it worked.  I rose,
both body and cock, and slowly made my way to her.  She was
moving almost in sync, and we met in front of the sofa.

We moved together as one, with arms surrounding each other.  She
looked up, I looked down, our eyes locked, and our lips moved
toward each other, slowly, inevitably, meeting, then merging,
lightly at first, then with increased pressure.  Her tongue
snaked out and mine moved to meet it, to dance and play, more and
more vigorously as the minutes passed.  Soon we found ourselves
on the sofa, her left hand behind my head, her right hand
traveling down to touch and fondle my cock through my pants.  My
hands were similarly involved, my left cupping her right breast,
and my right cupping her ass, also, for the moment, covered by
cloth.

Time passed, and clothes seemed to remove themselves, almost of
their own accord.  My tongue engaged other morsels - the back of
her ear, the hollow of her throat, the valley between her
breasts.  Her moans and actions encouraging me, asking me for
more.  I spent time on her breasts, holding, lifting, caressing,
and finally, licking.  

Her nipples extended, her breathing ragged, my stomach getting
damp as it was pressed against her slit.  I stopped for a moment
and looked again in her eyes, those now glistening brown pools
that seem to caress me themselves.  Somehow the message was sent
and received, and I lifted her in my arms and carried her into
the bedroom.

Using one arm to drag away the sheet and comforter, I laid her
down with her head on a pillow, reaching up and splaying her hair
so that it surrounded her like a halo.  Again I took a moment to
gaze upon her, wondering at the feelings coursing through me. 
Then I bent to my mission once again, to give this woman
something of those feelings I had.

Down, down my tongue traveled, tracing lines around, and into her
navel, then moving onward.  Her hands were now on my head,
caressing, asking, but not demanding - not yet.

Finally, I was there, at first licking everything except her clit
and lips.  Then, moving from high on her thigh, I took one long
swipe up through her lips and across her clit.  Her reaction was
amazing, as she arched her hips and screamed.  I waited.  When
she could focus again, her eyes showed amazement.  So, in fact,
did mine.  This was already one of the best experiences of my
life, sex or otherwise, and it was just beginning!

Again, I bent down, this time working slowly in and around those
lips, tasting the nectar I had drawn from her.  Her hands started
to become a little more demanding, and I followed her lead,
licking and plunging my tongue when and where she guided me. 
This time, we could both feel it build up in her, as I placed one
hand on her breast, tweaking a nipple, and the other hand just
above her clit, placing some pressure on the hood as I licked her
clit from below.  This one came as a release, and she relaxed
into it, allowing the waves to wash through her, enjoying the
spasms, which continued for almost a minute.

Once the spasms were through, her eyes focused on me again, this
time with a feral look in them.  She licked her lips and
suddenly, she was in control.

Almost without thought, our positions and roles were reversed,
and she was the one using her tongue and hands on me as it was
now my head on the pillow.  She followed the same trail I did,
spending less time on my nipples but more time around my groin,
teasing me as I had her.  Finally, she raised her head, and,
looking me square in the eye, engulfed my cock in her mouth, her
hands sliding and twisting on the part of my pole that was
outside.  This time it was me who screamed as I came, spurting
and jerking helplessly.

As I slowly regained my senses, she slid up my body, back into my
arms.  We shared a kiss, neither of us caring about anything
other than sharing our passion with each other.  After the kiss,
she slid her head onto my chest, dragged the sheet up over us,
and laying almost on top of me, turned her eyes up one last time.
 Gazing into each other's eyes, the message was again sent and
received... now was a time for relaxing and regaining strength. 
We both knew there would be more, but were content with that
knowledge for the moment, and soon we were asleep.

----------------------------------

This time when I awoke, there was a different taste in my mouth,
and I was relaxed and content, not hung over and annoyed.  Rita's
head was still on my chest, and her body was still molded to
mine.  Her tousled blonde hair wasn't a surprise this time, it
was something to enjoy, and I reached up and caressed it.  She
stirred, hugged me tightly for a moment, and then looked up and
into my eyes, those brown orbs showing the same contentment I
knew was showing in mine.  It may seem strange, but sex didn't
seem to be important at the moment.  Holding and lightly
caressing each other felt wonderful, and complete.

After awhile we started talking about things, light topics at
first, telling each other amusing stories, chatting about movies
we'd seen, books we'd read.  Things seemed to move in a natural
progression, as we got up, showered together with caresses, but
not with passion, got dressed (a t-shirt and another pair of
shorts for her, and the same for me), and headed into the
kitchen.  It was almost scary for a moment, as we seemed to be
able to work together without consciously trying, putting
together a lunch-like meal, even though, by that time, it was
four o'clock and we hadn't even had breakfast.

We sat and ate, companionably, content to be near each other, not
in any hurry, but not dawdling either.  We finished, cleaned up
together, again working together easily, each grabbed a cup of
tea that had been freshly brewed, and headed into the living
room.

We settled onto the sofa, sighed in sync, giggled at each other
and took a sip of tea.

"I was set up, wasn't I?"  I started.

"Apparently so, and so was I," she replied.

"I know you from somewhere, don't I?"

"Yes and no.  I'll give you a hint - it was in college, and you
knew me through Lisa."

And it clicked!  Lisa's roommate Rita Matthews.  Brown hair,
brown eyes, seemed shy at the time, never made eye contact when I
was around, not that I'd have noticed, and dressed plainly.  To
put it bluntly, a wallflower in spades, and someone I never would
have bothered becoming 'friends' with. 

"Lisa's roommate, the shy, quiet one that no one ever noticed."

"Yup," she smiled, "That's me!"

"How in the world did Lisa get you to... wait, I want to hear the
whole thing, beginning with what you've been doing and why."

"Well, when I graduated, I headed to Iowa to take a teaching
job."

"Why Iowa?"

"Because I couldn't stay around here."

"Because..."

With a twinkle in her eye she said, " Because you were here."

"Oh."  I got it.  A big crush on Lisa's boyfriend, and she felt
she had to get away because it hurt to much to be around someone
who didn't know she existed.

"I kept in touch with Lisa sporadically, never mentioning you, of
course, but I get the feeling she knew.  Last year I finished up
my Masters and Lisa said I could do a lot better here than in
Iowa, and I felt she was right.

"So I got a job in administration at the high school and moved
back here.

"I still hadn't said anything about you, and neither did she, and
since I knew she was married to Bob I guess I thought that you
were long gone and it was 'safe' to come back."

"You mean..?"

"Yes, even after eight years, I was still carrying a torch. 
Pretty sad, huh?"  She looked at me with that twinkle in her eye
and started to take sip, which she almost sprayed in my face when
I muttered "Thank god!"

After she calmed down and swallowed, she proceeded with her tale.
 

"Lisa and I started getting together, and she took it upon
herself to give me a life.  Oh, we weren't exactly bar-hopping or
anything, but she had me go to aerobic classes with her, to the
hairdressers, to the mall to shop for clothes, and to take
dancing classes."

"Belly-dancing classes?"

She smirked, "I guess I didn't waste my money, after all." 
Another sip.

"Then one day she took me aside after one of those classes and
said, 'You're really good at this.  How about showing off those
moves?'  Of course, I was shocked, scandalized, put out, you name
it.  But, there was also a tingle inside.  And I think Lisa knew
it.

"She kept after me, and finally told me there would be a perfect
opportunity in just a couple of days.  Bob always had a buddy
over to watch the Michigan/Ohio State game.  I could be the
halftime entertainment!  I already knew Bob, and there would be
only one other person to see me.  Limited exposure in a 'safe'
environment."  She smiled at me, and we leaned together for a
slow, easy kiss.  As our lips parted, she murmured, "'Safe', my
eye."

"When did you realize it was me?"

"Just after I got there.  It was early in the game, and Lisa said
it would be about 45 minutes before halftime, but I should go
ahead and get prepared.  We had gone shopping the day before and
Lisa had talked me into - well, you've seen most of it today. 
How much do you remember?"

"I remember a hot looking blonde wearing tight clothes that
started coming off in what, to my untrained eye (she grinned),
was a highly professional manner.  I also remember Bob clapping
and whistling while pouring me more bourbon, and me joining in. 
Again, my memory is still blurry, as I don't usually drink a lot.
 I think the top was red and the skirt, what there was of it, was
black and very, very tight."

"Oh, it was tight, and so was I!  As I turned to go up to change,
I glanced into the room and saw the back of your head.  And I
knew!  I knew without a shadow of a doubt it was you, and
immediately turned to Lisa and said 'what the hell is Tom doing
here?'  She matter of factly told me you were Bob's buddy and
always there for football, since they had the big screen TV.

"I told her I couldn't do it and turned to go, but she grabbed
me, pulled me upstairs into the bedroom, closed the door, and
starting working on me.  "You can do this," she told me, "You
need to do this.  He won't even know it's you."

"True enough," I said, grinning.  "I take it she wore you down."

"She did more than that.  She started telling me this was a
chance to do what I'd wanted to do all along - to make a play for
you, to let it all hang out for one afternoon.  And that whatever
happened, I would be okay, because you would never know it was
me.  That argument started to sway me.

"Then I started getting nervous.  Would I be able to pull this
off?  

"Lisa said she could solve that one, too.  She and Bob had
decided to give you bourbon instead of beer, and that it would
probably help if I had a couple of shots, too."  We grinned at
each other.  "Well, it seemed to make sense at the time!"

"Okay, you were juiced up, I was juiced up, I vaguely remember
the game ending with Ohio State winning, but then it's pretty
much a blank until this morning.  I gather from your earlier
comment - you know, the one I said 'bullshit' to? - that you
still were somewhat aware.  How did we get here?"

"Bob and Lisa drove us over.  It was obvious you were in no shape
to drive anywhere, and Lisa, bless her soul, continued to pour
insidious little ideas into my head, which wasn't all that clear
at the time, continuing along the line of 'it's perfect.  You can
have your way with him, have a memory you'll never forget and
he'll never know.'  Then she proceeded to tell me what would turn
you on, and what you liked to do.  Of course, I bought it like it
was on sale.  I was ready and willing to do anything at that
point.

"So they brought us up, Bob dumping you in the bed after
stripping you, and Lisa helping me take my clothes off right
inside the door and waiting for Bob to come out, with me wearing
just the coat.  After Bob went down to the car, Lisa helped me
take the coat off, folded it over the chair, walked me into the
bathroom first (god, I was shameless), and then had me slide in
next to you in the bed.  You rolled over towards me, mumbled
something like 'hi sweetie, you feel good,' folded your arms
around me and went right back to sleep."

"I wasn't holding you this morning, though."

"I think we each got up a couple times in the night to go to the
bathroom, and I guess after the last one we didn't cuddle."  She
smiled again, and we both sipped our tea, which was almost gone.

"Rita, will you marry me?"

"Yes."

--------------------------

We had the ceremony two months later, Bob as my best man and Lisa
as matron of honor.  The four of us get together often, going to
ballgames, shows, picnics, and even Disney World (it'll probably
be more fun with kids although we enjoyed Epcot).  We also will
definitely continue the tradition of the Ohio State/Michigan
game, with both Rita and Lisa showing off their dancing skills at
halftime, and Bob and I intending to be in a lot better shape to
appreciate it.  

Oh yes, and Rita's final answer to the question 'Was it worth
it?' - "Hell, yes!"
<1st attachment end>


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