The Morning After

Please note: I originally posted this story on another website. I have modified it slightly for submission to Literotica.

Introduction: Sometimes things can get a little out of hand when I drink too much.

*

When I woke up, I was confused at first. I wondered who had fixed the crack in the ceiling over my bed. Then I looked for the ceiling fan. It wasn't there. I looked to my right. There was a poster on the wall that I didn't recognize. I looked to my left, which was a big mistake, since there was a window where one wasn't supposed to be. The morning sun caught me squarely in my bloodshot eyes. It was then that I realized that I had one hell of a hangover.

Being the genius that I am, I finally figured out that I was not in my own bed. The problem, other than the shitty taste in my mouth, a sour stomach, and the ever-increasing pounding in my head, was that I didn't have a clue as to whose bed I was in. I had no memory of how I got here. In fact, as my sluggish brain tried to recall the events of the night before, I realized that I had no memory of leaving the party. The last thing I could remember was playing beer-pong with some of my buddies in Joe's rec room. I had been losing, but I hadn't been that drunk. Had I?

Frank, Donnie, Mike, Joe, and I all work at the tractor assembly plant in town. We had gotten into the habit of going out bar-hopping once a month. All of us except Mike were married, but our wives indulged us, because it gave them a chance to have a girls' night out. We all were friends, many of us having graduated from the local high school together nineteen years ago. Some of us, like my wife and I, had been high school sweethearts.

We all drink pretty hard when we are together. I guess you could call it binge-drinking, since we tend to get pretty stupid. Lately, I've been wondering if I, at least, am overdoing it, since I've had a few black-outs. I was starting to realize this had been one of those nights, since things were starting to come together, but they didn't really make sense. I had been the designated driver for the bar-crawl last night. That's why I hadn't had anything to drink while we were out, and had only planned to have a few beers at Joe's house when we got back. I knew I could drink three beers and still be below the legal limit, so why didn't I remember anything after the beer-pong game, and why did I feel so lousy? Had we switched from beer-pong to whiskey shot-pong again? Joe had gotten seriously shit-faced the last time we did that. And where the hell was I? The only thing I could figure out was that I must have drunk a whole lot more than I had expected to, and someone had put me to bed at Joe's house.

But, why was I naked under the covers? I normally sleep in my shorts and a t-shirt. The guys all knew this, since we all went hunting together, and we had shared motel rooms when some of us couples took vacations together.

Shading my eyes from the sun, I looked over the side of the bed and saw all my clothes on the floor. They all looked okay. I picked up my t-shirt and shorts and saw that they were dry and reasonably clean. That meant that I hadn't done something really dumb and gross, like puking on myself or shitting my pants like Donnie did the one time. We still gave him grief about that one. So why had I taken all my clothes off?

I heard the door open. Joe's eighteen-year old daughter Mindy was standing there, wearing a long bathrobe which she had tied tightly around her.

"Good morning, Poppa Tom," she said brightly. "I thought you might want this." She walked in carrying a folding bed-tray. On it was a big glass of tomato juice, a plate with three pieces of dry toast, a bottle of spring water, a big mug of black coffee, and, God bless her, a bottle of aspirin.

I sat up in bed, carefully keeping the covers over myself, and she unfolded the legs of the tray and positioned it over my lap. Then she sat on one corner of the foot of the bed.

"What the hell happened last night, Sweetcheeks?" I asked. I've always called Mindy Sweetcheeks. I've known her since a few hours after she was born. I was the first one, other than Joe, his wife, and the hospital staff, who got to hold her. I've always loved this child, almost as though she were my own. When she was a baby, I sometimes changed her diaper. When she was a young girl, I helped teach her how to ride a bike. Now that she is a beautiful young woman, she sometimes confides in me about boys. My wife and I are unable to have children (I produce plenty of cum but no viable sperm, due to a childhood fever, the doctors say), so we've always treated her like the daughter we'll never have, having her over to the house all the time, buying her stuff, and taking her places with us. My wife really loves her and spoils her rotten. Her parents indulge us, since they know about my "condition." Our inability to have kids is part of why they made us her godparents, I think, and they taught Mindy to call us Poppa Tom and Momma Jean.

Mindy gave me a little smirk. "Don't you remember?"

I gulped down four aspirin. "Considering they way I feel, I assume that I got pretty drunk."

"You could say that," she laughed. "Drink your tomato juice and eat your toast. I'm going for a shower. I'll be back in a few minutes and then I'll tell you everything." Shaking her pretty head and laughing, she left the room.

As soon as the first bite of toast hit my stomach, I realized that the contents of this tray were exactly what I needed. I also discovered that I was pretty hungry, and more than a little dehydrated. By the time I had polished off everything, the aspirin were starting to work. I was beginning to feel a whole lot better, but I was really tired. I put the tray on the floor next to the bed, and grabbed my shorts and t-shirt. I put them on and looked at my watch. It was only 8am. Since it was Saturday, I didn't have to be anywhere until late this afternoon, so I settled back under the covers to wait until I was sure I was well enough to drive home.

At least I didn't have to face an angry wife when I got home, I thought. My wife had left right after work yesterday for the vacation house we had rented at the shore for the week with Frank, Joe, and their wives. Since last night was our traditional monthly guys' party night, we had agreed that the girls would go ahead so they could have a night without us boys underfoot. Frank and Joe were supposed to leave at dawn to meet them, and I was to drive there alone tonight, after the little league team I help coach played their game.

I guessed that I must have drunk a whole lot more than I planned to, and that someone decided it would be a good idea to have me stay at Joe's house to sleep it off. I was anxious for Mindy to come back and fill in the details.

A moment later, Mindy walked in. She was still wearing her robe, but her long, wavy dark hair was damp. She was combing it with her fingers. "Feeling better?"

"Much, Sweetcheeks," I said. "Thanks to you, I'm pretty sure I'm going to live. Now please, tell me what happened last night."

"You got stupid drunk. Dad and Frank weren't as bad as you, and Donnie was sober enough to drive himself and Mike home. I made you and Frank stay here. Frank stayed in the guest room, and you wound up here in my room. I told Dad that you should be in a real bed and that I would sleep on the couch. That way, I could be sure that they got up and got on the road as scheduled. I said I would play nurse for you this morning and make sure you got home in plenty of time for your game this evening.

"Thanks, honey, you really know how to take care of a guy."

Mindy flashed me one of her heart-meltingly beautiful smiles and said, "That's exactly what you said to me last night. And I want to take care of you again, right now."

She pulled down the covers. This was the first time I noticed the wet spot on the bed. There appeared to be drying cum-stains, and there was a definite bloody tinge to the area.

I looked at the sheet stupidly for a moment. Then I looked up at Mindy. She had untied her robe and was slipping it off. Stunned, I realized that she was naked. "Does this jog your memory?" she said.

I gaped at her. Even though she had recently shot up to about 5'6" tall, and she had recently celebrated her eighteenth birthday, making her "officially" a woman, I still thought of her as a little girl. I knew she had grown up, but I had just not realized how much. Her breasts were firm and beautiful, probably somewhere between a B-cup and a C. Her areola were fairly small, perfect dark pink circles surrounding a pair of pretty, erect nipples. Her overall figure was lean and athletic. She had shapely legs, narrow but beautiful hips, and a clean-shaven pussy. Her flawless skin was lightly tanned, showing the tan lines of a skimpy bikini. In other words, she was hot as hell!

"My God, Mindy," I said, "What are you doing? Put some clothing on!"

As she lay down next to me and slid a hand to my crotch, she said, "That's not what you said last night. Last night you couldn't wait for me to take my clothes off."

Horrified, I said, "What are you talking about?"

She gave me a pouty look. "Last night, you begged me to strip for you, which I did, just before I gave you a blow-job and then my virginity."

Again, I said, "What are you saying, Mindy? Are you telling me we had sex last night?"

"Yes, we did, Tom. It was wonderful. You were so gentle with me when you took my cherry. You made sure I was ready. You made me orgasm twice before you ever tried to enter me, and then you made sure I was ready to cum again before you broke through. I hardly had any pain at all. At least, I was so lust-crazed by the way you had eaten my pussy and teased me with your big cock that I knew the pain would be worth it to have you inside me. And let me tell you, it was! That's why I want you to make love to me again."

"I can't do that, Sweetcheeks! You're like a daughter to me. You're too young. Your father would kill me!"

Mindy said, rubbing her delicate hand over the growing bulge in my shorts, "He doesn't have to know. I'm sure not going to tell him. This is our secret. Now let me have that wonderful cock of yours."

"Mindy, please!"

"Please, what, Poppa Tom?" Mindy said, giving me the sultriest look I had ever seen. "Please suck your cock? Please let you do me doggy? Please sixty-nine with you? Please jerk you off so you cum on my tits? Anything you want, I'll do. I've always loved you, Poppa Tom. I want to make you happy."

My head was spinning. My big head knew this was wrong. It was saying that I should shove her off the bed, grab my clothes, and run as far and as fast as I could, and that I should pray that I would wake up in my own bed to find that this was all a dream. My little head was saying I should fuck this little girl six ways from Sunday. It was telling me that I had already done all that was necessary for me to wind up in divorce court, or even the morgue if my wife or my best friend decided to take a more direct and efficient approach to the situation I had put myself in. It reasoned that, since I had already done the unthinkable with this woman-child, I had nothing to lose by doing it again. And again. And again!

When Mindy took my hand and placed it on her tit, and then fished my dick out of my shorts so she could stroke it, the battle inside me was over. My little head declared victory and demanded unconditional surrender from my big head. I decided that, since I was already going to Hell, I might as well enjoy the ride.

I pulled Mindy to me and kissed her. She responded by sucking on my tongue, while reaching deeper into my shorts to fondle my balls. God, for a virgin (until last night, anyway), this girl sure knew how to get my attention!

"Play with my tits, Tom," she whispered as she licked my ear. "None of my boyfriends ever made me as horny as you did last night. You play with them just right. When you suck my nipples, it makes me so wet!"

It sounded like a pretty good idea to me. My wife's tits are still pretty nice, and she always likes me to spend a lot of time on them, but it takes a while to get her nipples erect. Mindy's were already looking like the erasers on a pair of new pencils. I rolled the left one gently between my thumb and index finger, and started licking, sucking, and nibbling on the right one. Mindy let out a little squeal, and started jacking my cock harder.

"Oh God, I love that!" she said. "My nipples are always so sensitive. When I play with myself, that's always how I start. And I always think about you."

"Me?" I said.

"The first time I ever felt myself get wet down below was when I was ten. You were tickling me and you put your arms around me to hold me down. Your fingers brushed my one nipple and it made me go all warm and tingly. I felt myself get wet, but I didn't know what it meant. Now I know that I've wanted you ever since I was a little girl. I've always loved you."

"I've always loved you, too, Sweetcheeks, but I never thought of you like this," I said.

"I've been thinking of you like this for years, Poppa Tom," Mindy breathed. "Now stop talking and fuck me!"

She grabbed my shorts and started trying to pull them down. I lifted my hips off the bed to make it easy for her. As soon as my cock sprang free of the waistband, she grabbed it again and started stroking it. Then she climbed on top of me and rubbed it against her wet pussy, lubing it up with her moisture. Before I could really comprehend what was happening, she had lined us up and was lowering herself onto me.

She stopped when only the head of my cock had penetrated her. "This is going to be really good, Tom," she panted. "Last night, we did it missionary position. This time, I want to control the pace. Not that you weren't gentle with me. Not at all. In fact, you were almost too gentle. Now I'm going to fuck you. And you better be ready, 'cuz I'm going to fuck you hard!"

She slowly ground herself down onto me. I had forgotten how tight a young girl could be. I couldn't believe this wasn't painful for her, since the snugness of her near-virgin teen pussy was almost painful for me. She was very wet with her excitement and she took her time so she could stretch to make room for me, but still! When I was sixteen, my cock had been a lot skinnier than it was now. It probably would have fit her nicely, but the added length and especially girth of my late teen growth spurt had left me, at the ripe old age of thirty-seven, relatively well-endowed. Compared to her still-maturing teen pussy, I seemed huge.

With what seemed like considerable effort, she gradually forced herself onto me. When she could finally rest her weight on my pelvis, she said, "Now, don't move. Let me do all the thrusting. I'm so close to cumming right now, just feeling so full. You're so deep inside me, deeper than last night." She leaned front and said, "Lick my nipples, Poppa Tom, suck on them. I know that will make me cum."

I was happy to do that for her. Her breasts were perfect. Not too small, not large enough or old enough to have any sag at all. They were all firm, perky, youthful femininity. I strummed on one nipple with my fingers, gently rolling and tweaking it, while licking, sucking, and nibbling on the other. Apparently, she loved it. Even though her pussy stayed clamped tight and still on my shaft, her breathing was now coming in gasps and pants. When she started moaning, I swapped nipples and used my mouth on the one I had been fondling, while using my fingers to tease the one that was already wet with my saliva.

Still not really moving on my cock, she began to rock her pelvis back and forth, her chest heaving with her labored breathing, and her pussy muscles rippling around me. By this time, she was moaning loudly, and I knew she was almost ready to cum. I figured I'd help her along by rubbing her clit.

That did the trick. She sucked in a huge gulp of air and went rigid. Her mouth opened in a silent scream as a fine spray of girl-cum shot out onto my sack and lower abdomen. After an impossibly long time, she exhaled and then went limp, collapsing on top of me. I thought I had killed her.

Slowly, she started to stir. Then she raised her torso by pressing her hands against my chest until she was again sitting upright on my still-hard cock. "My God, Poppa Tom," she gasped. "What happened? Did I just squirt? I've seen videos of girls squirting when they cum, but I've never done that before, no matter how much I play with myself. I've never cum half that hard, not even last night. I think I almost blacked out there for a minute!"

"Sweetcheeks," I said, "you looked like you were screaming, but you didn't make a sound. You held your breath for a really long time. And, yes, you squirted. I'm soaked. That was awesome."

"Now I want to make you cum that hard," Mindy said. She slowly raised herself up and then lowered herself again, massaging my entire length with her tight teen pussy. Over and over she did this. It was heavenly. I watched her as she gradually increased her speed, her firm tits bouncing only slightly and her clean-shaven shiny wet lips stretched tightly around my pole. I was so mesmerized by this sight that I couldn't stop watching her. Sex with my wife had never looked this good or felt this intense.

Mindy was breathing pretty hard, and her body was covered by a thin sheen of sweat. With each downward stroke, she would make a little moan, and each time she pulled partway off me, she would inhale noisily with a sort of gasp. The faster she went, the louder she got. I looked at her beautiful face, and saw that her eyes were wide open with almost a surprised look. It was pretty obvious that she was enjoying this as much as I was.

Suddenly, she went too far on the upstroke, and my cock slipped out of her. She let out a cry of disappointment and grabbed my dick to insert it into her again, but then paused. "Would you eat me out again like you did last night?" she asked, breathlessly.

"I'd love to, Sweetcheeks," I said. She crawled up my body on her knees, leaving a trail of her moisture on my stomach and chest. When she was positioned over my face, I could see her sopping wet pussy. It looked delicious. Her labia were very full and pink, her clit was fully erect and poking out from its hood, and her tight teen fuckhole was slightly open, inviting my tongue to enter it.

Agonizingly slowly, she lowered herself onto my waiting mouth. For just a second, I wondered how a girl so young and supposedly innocent could look so hot and ready. This was so dead wrong, and yet so absolutely right.

When the tip of my tongue first made contact with Mindy's clit, she shuddered violently. "Oh, Poppa Tom, I'm gonna cum!" she moaned.

"I hope so," I replied. I licked her clit a few times, then her lips, and then curled my tongue to push it inside her as far as I could. This was wonderful. She tasted so good and fresh. I had forgotten the difference between the taste of a young girl and a mature woman. It's not that my wife tastes bad, not at all. I love to lap at her moisture, and I think her aroma and flavor are divine, but she had slowly changed over the years. Mindy, however, was fresher, sweeter, and much wetter than I think my wife had ever been. I wanted to lap at her until I was an old man.

When I inserted my index and middle fingers into her tight channel, she groaned. When I locked my lips around her clit and sucked on it, she gasped. And when I curled my fingers to massage her g-spot, she shrieked. Suddenly, I was nearly drowning in the girl-cum that spurted from her with the force of a geyser. I drank as fast as I could, but the sheer volume of it soaked my hand, arm, face, and hair, dripping onto the pillow under my head.

I grabbed Mindy as she was starting to collapse so she wouldn't smack her face on the headboard of the bed. For a moment, she was dead weight in my hands. Thank God she wasn't any heavier than she was, because it was awkward lifting her off my chest to lay her on the bed next to me, and she was no help at all. I had never been with any other woman except my wife, and even though Jean would sometimes cum very hard, she never lost control of her body like this.