Chapter Thirteen
Thanks to the liquor my sleep was dreamless – or at least my dreams went unremembered. I still woke the next morning with grossly bloated balls and a terribly painful attempted hard-on. Yet thanks to a ferocious hangover I could think of little but my pounding head and sick stomach. Speculation about the lover I was now irrevocably committed to (my earlier confidence that I could always back out if things got too heavy now seemed pitifully naïve) was kept successfully at bay. Memories of her talons buried in my flesh and her tongue not only wrapped about my c**k but squeezing and tugging on it remained as buried as the information I’d uncovered with the computer. It wasn’t until after dinner (I’d called in sick to work, sparing myself the necessity of explaining the shodd
