I was on a roll that night. Everyone was laughing, and I was the center of a lot of it: good hearty laughter that brought us away from the mundane everyday things.
She hadn't paid me a lot of attention before. She was beautiful in a slightly worn, kind of slutty way. Perfect body, and the most perfect tits I had ever seen. She liked to show them off, she knew they were perfect, and they got her a lot of attention.
I told her some joke that involved a kangaroo and what he kept in his pouch, and she doubled over with laughter, skirt riding up enough that I could see she wasn't wearing underwear, and I was gone into a world of images of licking and sucking and fucking, wet and warm and glowing.
She came to me later. "I want you to fuck me," she slurred, long and low, "fuck me like there's no tomorrow."
We went to her bed. Big and roomy, smelled of stale dust and old beer and the sweat of many bodies. She fumbled at my zipper for a few seconds until my cock sprang out, eager and willing. She pulled my jeans about halfway down my thighs, took my cock in her mouth and sucked, gagged, coughed, sucked again. Her hand moved down between her thighs and lifted her skirt. She was shaved, pink and raw with a couple of days worth of stubble.
She pulled her mouth off of me, pushed me back on the bed, and climbed up my body, shoving her tongue in my mouth, taste of my musk and cigarettes making me gag just a little.
She pushed me inside of her, wet and warm, and she rode my pelvis, thrusting her hips back and forth with her eyes closed, frenzied. I couldn't move except to buck my hips a little, trying to match her rhythm, unsteady and unsure, until she fell over. I rolled on top of her and thrust into her over and over until I felt it swelling in side me and I burst open like a dam, and I came inside her, oozing like some pus-filled pastry.
She was passed out.
I rolled over, wondering what the hell I had just done, and drifted off into a haze of dreams of neon and carcinogens.
When I woke in the morning, she was lying next to me, looking like some circus sideshow freak, her makeup smeared across her face, her eyes open but dull. I watched as the light of recognition returned to her eyes and they widened in horror.
"Did we..." her voice croaked.
She turned and vomited over the side of the bed.
"I love you," I said softly, and cried.