I woke to a banging headache and an unbelievable aching pain that started in my legs and travelled up my spine. The smell of alcohol was sickly and the air was thick and clammy with sweat. I grab my phone, it's 7 am. I'm in a strangers bed.
What the fuck happened last night?
***
''Okay !'' Dylan shouts. ''We are going to go upstairs, Bye Andy !''
Dylan grabs my hand and run to the stairs, my head was swimming around and I didn't notice the danger in his smirk.
We groggily, stumble up them and I do my best to ignore the groans coming from the close doors. We're both giggling like 5 years olds and I can't see straight. So much for the non-alcoholic punch.
Dylan turns around, facing me. His famous smirk spread across his face again. The alcohol had infected me and now there was no control of what I was doing.
It's takes us three floors of the house to finally find an empty bedroom and by that time this weird excited knot in my stomach had formed and the giggles were now louder than ever.
The bedroom door swung open and the thoughts in our heads suddenly become a reality. The door swings shut behind me and the faint music from downstairs is lost forever. The moment takes us both and our faces are now centimetres away.
"Yay or neigh ?" Dylan asks, still giggling.
"Yay." I slur back, wetting my bottom lip in a drunken trance.
Dylan smirks again.
Im going to put this very bluntly so be prepared.
I'm gonna say that things probably moved a little to fast because in a matter of seconds I'm almost certain that our tongues have probably already explored most of each other mouths. Also the drunk state I'm in seriously questions whether Dylan's shirt is on or off or if I'm on the bed or not.
But before I have time to answer that I'm already unbuckling Dylan's black skinny jeans and my bra is gone.
I'm in such a rush I don't even get to undo the zip because my hands suddenly move onto Dylan's bare chest and we are now both groping each other like there's no tomorrow.
As the saliva sharing stops for a second, Dylan's lips find my neck and things slow done for second. My hands return to his jeans and his start undoing mine as well.
"Dylan ." I ask, panting for air.
His lips don't move so he just mumbled a yes into my shoulder and carries on.
"You got one ?"
He grunts fiddles around for a second.
"Ready ?" He asks .
I slur a yes back....
--
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