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Isabel (and me)this story is part of the FanClub (fm:one-on-one, 1565 words)

Author: Ic Picture in profile
Added: Aug 20 2008Views / Reads: 535 / 406 [76%]Story vote: 9.00 (1 vote)
The morning after the night before, and our protagonist gets a friendly wake up call from a friend. (Straight MF, a smidgeon of exhibitionism)
 


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The room was rank with stale beer, sweat and more stale beer. Without opening my eyes I could have visualised the whole thing: A stereotypical after-party scene, empty lager cans, red wine stains and lots of unconscious people. Seems to be a growing trend amongst my friends. We get together for a meal, then end up drinking and dancing and talking and oh shit it's 4am let's just crash here. Thankfully it's not that frequent; I'm not 18 any more and my liver knows it. The taste in my mouth and only slight niggle behind my eyes at least told I went easy on the drink.

Squinting into the gloom I opened my eyes, the crack in the curtains letting in just a slither of morning light. Yup, more than a couple of dead beer cans and apparently lifeless people. Six or seven of us it looked like, that was definitely Steve asleep on his own dining table. Classy.

With no little complaint from my body I scrambled up from the floor and quietly picked my way through the detritus to the door. Up the stairs and into the bathroom, to run the cold tap and shove my head in the basin. The water was gloriously cooling in the stifling heat. Why does it rain all summer then we get a heat wave in September? Bloody weather. A couple of gulps of cold water freshened my mouth some, and after getting rid of the previous night's beer I tottered back down the stairs for another hours kip. Not sure what had happened to my t-shirt, but it was so hot I think everyone had stripped down to the decent ...

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