smut book

memory

i woke to an unfamiliar bed.

an unfamiliar room.

what the fuck?

i can't remember anything from last night. i went to a party with jessica, we were having a great time but then i lost her...i ended up at a bar downtown and....nothing. i can't remember anything.

the only thing i can remember is what i had been oreivuously dreaming. it felt so real...i hate waking up from incredible..dirty dreams like that. i always wake up wanting more...

stop. i can't think about that right now. i need to figure out where i am. who's house am i in?

oh shit...did we?

i look down and see that i'm only wearing a white dress shirt. nothing else.

fuck me.

fuck you drunk elizabeth, going around hooking up with random guys.

i never do this. why did i do this?

fuck.

i got out of the large bed and looked around the room.

it was square shaped and had 4 huge windows along the walls.

there were too large dressers and a walk-in closet on one end of the room, and a bathroom at the other.

there has to be something here that can tell me about who's house this is.

i dug through the dresser drawers.

boxers, socks, jeans, t-shirts, sweaters.

nothing important.

the closet was the same.

i headed into the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror.

i was surprised to see that i didn't look like an absolute disaster. last nights makeup lingered on my face but it didn't look too bad.

my previously straigtended hair had returned to its natural loose and lazy curls.

as i walked closer to the bedroom door i heard strumming and a low voice.

slowly, i opened the door and made my way down the long and narrow hall.

i leaned over the railing of the tall flight of stairs that over looked the large open living room.

the voice was louder but i couldn't quite make out who's it was. they sounded amazing.

i mentally high fived myself for at least picking a talented guy.

quietly i crept down the stairs.

the condo was large and open, from the living room you could see everything.

the large clean kitchen, room full of guitars and misilanious instruments, and a balcony where...

where i could see him.

his perfectly toned back muscles moving as he strummed his guitar.

his soft brown hair was messy from the night before.

who is he?

he looks familiar.

suddenly he stood, placing the guitar on the couch beside him before entering the house.

i turned the corner, moving myself out of his sight.

he walked past with out noticing me and made his way into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water.