When I woke, I was in a fog. There I was, spooned around a very attractive and nude woman on the floor of my half-lit living room. We both were naked, in fact - and while I couldn't remember how this stranger and I had gotten to that state, I could very clearly remember the most vivid dream I'd ever had about my sister Hannah -- and the most naked dream.
I closed my eyes and left myself snuggled against her. Like a little kid, thinking that, if he can't see something, it's not real, or it can't see him. Until I remembered what had gone on, I didn't want to risk waking ... whoever she was. So I lay very still and kept my breathing at a slow and steady pace. But that dream -- I couldn't flush it from my head. The girl must've had a strong resemblance to Hannah, which I could at least vouch for in terms of hair. The right shade of brown, for sure, and maybe the same curliness, but probably longer than ...
"Wait -- when had I seen Hannah last? Couldn't have been very long ago, not more than a couple of weeks, really. Their hair was probably close to the same length, then." I'd normally say I must've been pretty drunk not to remember what happened before we drifted off, but I didn't feel wasted or hung over, and I definitely remembered the sex dream with Hannah very clearly.
Where had I met this woman? I'd gone to Bailey's Pub -- of course! We must've come straight back from ... no, the pub was yesterday, and I knew I'd slept, showered, and been to work since then. And then ... I was supposed to meet Hannah for dinner? She was going to come here?
She was going to come here.
My thoughts were spinning. "She was here. She is here? Is she here? Is who here? Who's here? Me, yes, but ... this other body ... who?"
So much for keeping my breathing under control. At least I hoped that she couldn't hear my breathing over my trip hammer heart.
This looked so much like Hannah's hair. Who else could it be? Who else? That two word question became an insistent chant inside my head. If I asked it a thousand times fast, would I be able to magically summon an answer? Did it smell like Hannah's hair, I wondered. I sniffed, then realized I didn't have a fucking clue what her hair smelled like. But ... I didn't remember my sister's hair smelling UNLIKE the hair that was resting under my nose. I tried to glance around without moving anything but my right eyeball. Down along our bodies, I could see a hip, the side of a breast. Whose were they? They could be anybody's hips. More specifically, anybody who probably wasn't Hannah. I was feeling a tiny bit better.
I rotated my slightly more optimistic eye upward, along the back of the couch, then up as far past my forehead as it would go without popping from its socket.
Uh.
Oh.
I have never been an ensemble-conscious guy, no metrosexual leanings here, but that sure as fuck looked like a purse very similar to Hannah's sitting on the dining room table.
Hannah seldom bought designer, being a struggling new hire, only a year out of college, so there could have been thousands, millions of those purses out there.
But only one in my apartment, which was the only one that mattered.
She began to stir as I tried to keep my muscles from tensing up and crushing her. I had my breathing under control, at least. Once every minute, whether I needed to or not, I forced myself to do the oxygen swap.
She shifted and snaked her arm more snugly around the arm I had draped over her.
I waited. Waited. I realized this question wasn't going to just answer itself, and that I'd have to do something.
The smartest thing I could think to say, however, was "Hey."
"Mmmm ... hey yourself."
Hannah's voice. That was Hannah's voice, coming from a mouth not eight inches from my ear. And where Hannah's voice and mouth are, Hannah's whole body is sure to be there. Her whole naked body, it would seem. Snuggled up against my bare chest, with my semi-soft cock pressing against her ass cheeks. Well, it was, then suddenly it stopped. Can't imagine why.
"... Hannah?" If ellipses could be spoken, I'm sure these were. The tentative curiosity in my voice seemed to so obvious to my ears.
"Kyle? Are you okay, babe?"
"Uhhhh." So far, my conversation had been scintillating.