A Man With A Gun

Fast forward to the next morning... I wake up in the stranger's bed. He is snoring softly. I try to pick up my clothes and run. Run away from this place where I screwed a stranger. How could I? Mildly I remember the events of yesterday. I remember him opening a bottle of wine and lighting up a joint and I remember drinking and smoking merrily without a care in the world. He made me feel good. He made me feel like a beautiful woman. But this morning as I stare at the stranger, I feel sordid. I am dirty. I am cheap. I have loose morals. I took a stranger and had wild sex with him. I remember all the positions. Doggy style, the 69, missionary, reverse cowgirl, oh my gosh, what the fuck is wrong with me? I remember us taking off our clothes right from the front door and throwing them on the floor in a trail as we made our way to the bedroom. Last night is a story for the erotica blogs. I came. He came. We had sex or if you prefer we fucked until the wee hours of the morning.