As it Began

"Something in my semi intoxicated mind suddenly clicked as Roger closed his eyes and slowly leaned in...and our lips collided in an instant, sending us both over the edge. His hands were all over me...

I opened my eyes and immediately closed them as it was too damn bright and everything was blurry. As I slowly slipped back into consciousness I realized I couldn't remember a damn thing about the night before. Well, at least nothing after- oh shit.

I quickly sat up and realized I wasn't home, but in a small, slightly beat up flat with dark wooden walls and a hazy smoke hanging in the air. I realized there was warmth under me...what the hell? I looked to find none other than Roger Taylor sound asleep under me. Oh god, what did we do last night? There was a blanket over us and I noticed we were stark naked. It was my birthday night and we were both so messed up from drugs and alcohol...speaking of that I felt a nasty sensation slide up my throat and ran to the bathroom to spill my guts to the poor unfortunate toilet. Wonderful. I looked at myself in the mirror: my long hair was matted and looked like a bird's nest, my eyes had dark rings under them and I was pretty pale. My head was pounding as I opened Roger's cabinet to find some pain killers. I found a half empty bottle of Aspirin as well as an opened box of condoms... well at least that covers one major concern. If we even did anything at all. I swallowed two pills dry as I tried to remember what happened. I splashed some water over my face and walked back to the main room, starting to feel much better. Wow, talk about a lightweight. I began the search for my clothes.

Roger pulled my purple sweater over my head and kissed me harder, shoving his hand into my hair, making it tangle up around his fingers. He unbuttoned my jeans and got them off with little effort. He flung my sweater some place toward the kitchen and my pants ended up God knows where, but I did hear the slight 'swish' of a cymbal.

I found my underwear on the floor, put it on and kept looking around until two comical things caught my eye: my high-waisted jeans were hanging off of one of the cymbals of Roger's kit in the far corner of the room and my purple cashmere sweater was sprawled out, slowly spinning on the turntable on top of the record we failed to turn off last night. I laughed to myself and ran over to retrieve my clothes, put them on, and try to remember everything once more as I looked over to Roger, still sound asleep on the sofa. As I slowly walked over to him, I stepped on something- a small, empty foil packet. I sighed with relief as realization flooded over me, while examining the beauty before my eyes.

"I was breathless as Roger gently laid me down, him on top. He placed kisses all over my neck and I just couldn't stop myself from unbuttoning his shirt and jeans. Once they were out of the way he grabbed a small foil packet and opened it, then grabbed an old orange crochet blanket and threw it over us. After a moment I was so caught up that I flipped us around so I was on top, finishing what was to be done and feeling nothing but satisfaction. It was quite obvious he enjoyed it too...

I crept closer until I was right in front of the sofa, staring at every inch of Roger. His brows were slightly furrowed and his lips were parted. My eyes moved down and I watched as his chest slowly rose and fell with each sleepy breath, deep in thought. We really needed to talk relationships today before we even thought of breakfast.