Slutty Shaughna

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#20 Different than expected

Finally, Dshawn leans in and his lips meet mine. We both taste and smell like beer, but I don’t mind. His lips are incredibly soft, and I moan into him when he gently nips at my bottom lip before slipping in his tongue. We stand in the middle of his living room for a long time, just kissing, holding each other’s faces as we do.

“Are you staying the night?” he asks when we break apart.

“I… I’m not sure.” I want to jump his bones and screw him into next morning, but a small part of my brain knows that I’ll regret it if our first time together is when I’m drunk. Normally I don’t care about that, but it feels different with him. I want it… I don’t know. To be special, I guess? Which is ridiculous, because we’re just in this for the sex, right?

“Look, I can sleep on the couch if you want,” he says when he sees my hesitation. “You’re obviously drunk and I have to admit I’m not sober anymore either.” He motions to the kitchen, that is completely covered with empty beer bottles. “I think we drank about half of those.”

That’s not true, but I get his point. At least he doesn’t seem to think that having sex with me is a given. And he could have, since I stuck around after the party obviously ended and we had banter about sex earlier tonight. Surely he knows of my reputation, so it wouldn’t have been all that strange if he just took me straight to the bedroom.

“I think…” I hesitate. “Yes, I’d like to stay. But I don’t want to banish you to the couch.”

“Nice.” That’s all he says before yawning and walking to his bedroom. He returns with a towel and one of his shirts, holding it out to me. “Go take a shower.”

A little stunned at what is happening, I do as he says. Once I’m clean and dried off, I feel a little weird walking into his bedroom in only panties and his shirt, not knowing what tonight will be exactly. I’m not even sure if I would stop him if he tried to sleep with me.

Because god knows I don’t have a lot of self-restraint.

And I really, really want to sleep with him.

As it turns out, I don’t need to worry. He’s already passed out on his bed, snoring softly. He wasn’t kidding when he said he was drunk, I guess. And maybe the yawn wasn’t exaggerated either. He looks like he’s dead to the world, looking utterly peaceful lying there in his jean and T-shirt. I crawl in with him and carefully pull the blanket over us. The bed is big enough for us to each have enough space without needing to touch each other, but I find myself rolling over to him anyway. As I lie on my side, I softly touch his cheek, moving to his neck and then softly stroking his back. He murmurs something, but doesn’t wake up. He’s so damn cute.

After watching him and stroking his back for a while, I grow sleepy and I curl up, keeping one hand on his back while I drift off to sleep.


I wake up with a grunt and a terrible headache. It takes me a moment, but when I remember last night I smile to myself. Dshawn is not in bed with me anymore, but I do hear his voice in the living room. The door to the bedroom is open just a crack, allowing the conversation he’s having to flow in. Since I can only hear him talking, I gather he’s on the phone.

“And you’re sure that she’s not got a shift at the restaurant?” I hear him ask. “Only Animals tonight?”

Is he talking about me? I sit up, grunting softly when my heard starts pounding even worse. Damn. How much did I drink?

“She looks so cute when she sleeps,” I hear Dshawn say with a smile in his voice. “I didn’t want to wake her up, but I’d hate for her to get in trouble at work… Yeah… Exactly… No, I’ve got the day off.” He laughs. “Nah man, it’s not like that… Yeah, she stayed, but it’s not-” He doesn’t finish his sentence, listening to the person on the other end instead. “Yeah, it’s different than I thought it would be,” I hear him agree. “Like… way different.”

Is he still talking about me? How am I different than he expected me to be? Is this about me not having sex with him last night? God, my head is hurting even more now. I shouldn’t even be listening to this.

“You keep telling me that, but I don’t see that at all,” I hear Dshawn say a little annoyed. “Yeah, I know what I’m doing. Or well… maybe I don’t. I don’t give a shit.” He grunts. “Sure. Okay. See you later, man. Thanks.”

I hear his footsteps moving in my directing and I quickly lay back down, not wanting him to know that I was listening in on his phone conversation. His words aren’t that hard to make sense of. He was trying to figure out what to do about me, just like I am wondering what the fuck is going on between us. This isn’t what I expected either, but I don’t think that is necessarily a bad thing. Does he?

When I hear him move into the bedroom, I pretend to be asleep. He leaves after a moment and I open my eyes again, staying still for a few minutes before getting out of bed. I make my way to the living room, where he is sitting at the kitchen table, typing away on his laptop. He’s only wearing sweatpants and I’m once again taken aback by how gorgeous he is. He’s absolutely ripped, and his black skin glistens in the morning light – or well, afternoon light, I realize when I glance at the clock. It’s 1 pm already.

“Good morning,” Dshawn says, turning around with a smile on his face. “Hmm. You look good in my shirt.”

I’m not feeling good enough to flirt back right now, since my headache is of the nauseating type. Instead, I just sit down and gratefully take the water from him, along with two pain pills to cure my headache.

“You like your eggs sunny side up, right?” he asks, opening the fridge to find some ingredients. “Want some bacon with that?”

My stomach grumbles loudly. “Yes, please,” I reply, even though I’m not sure if I will be able to keep all of it down. I really do need to eat something. “Why do you look so awake?” I ask Dshawn as he moves around the kitchen, light on his feet. “You were just as drunk as I was.”

He grins. “I drank lots of water and went to sleep the second my head hit the pillow. Besides, I can actually hold my liquor, darling.”

I roll my eyes at that last word. “I’m hardly an amateur.”

He looks me up and down, smirking. “Could have fooled me.”

A few minutes later, he puts a plate with toast, eggs and bacon in front of me, along with a mug of coffee. “Two sugars, right?”

“You already know how I like my eggs and what I put in my coffee?” I ask with a frown. “How?”

“I had breakfast at your place that night Danny showed up, remember?” He shrugs. “I guess I just pay attention.”

That’s actually very sweet. It makes me feel like he actually pays attention to me. He answers some e-mails while I eat, and tells me where the towels are when I tell him I need another shower. I had one last night, but I reek of sweat and alcohol. Not an attractive smell on me.

“There’s a robe on the bathroom door,” he yells after me when I walk out of the living room.

I had been planning on just putting on my clothes from last night, but I guess he’s not planning on letting me leave quite yet. And I did hear him say that he’s got the day off anyway, so I may as well stick around for a little while longer. The robe is long and big, made of heavy material that feels soft on my skin. I put on my bra and panties just to feel a little more in control, but decide that the robe will do just fine. No clothes for me. It’s not like anything is on show, since the thing falls way past my knees and I tie it securely around my waist.

“How’s the headache?” Dshawn asks when I sit down next to him on the couch, feeling better now that I smell and feel clean again. The aspirin is working wonders, so I offer him a small smile.

“What are you watching?” I ask, glancing at the TV. “Dr. Phil? Really?”

He lazily drapes his arm over the back of the couch. “Why not? Hearing other people complain about how shitty their family is always makes me feel better about mine.”

I scoot a little closer, careful to keep the robe from falling open. His arm moves so it’s around my shoulder, pulling me into his side. I decide to just go with the flow today the way I normally do instead of wondering what is happening the whole time. I just snuggle against him, pulling my feet up on the couch so I’m more comfortable. He absentmindedly strokes my hair while we watch the TV for a moment.

“What’s your family like?” I ask, curious about his comment.

“My dad’s a security guard,” he says, not looking at me. “Mom works in a pharmacy. I’ve got five younger siblings.”

“Wow, five?” I ask, surprised. “That’s a lot. Do they live close?”

He nods. “Right on the edge of town, near the old factories.”

“Do you visit them often?”

Dshawn suddenly grow a little uncomfortable, but he answers anyway. “No, not that often. Sometimes. Twice a month, maybe. I don’t feel…” He shrugs. “I don’t know.”

I decide not to push right now. We hardly know each other on a deeper personal level, so it’s not my place to pry. Instead, I ask him old his siblings are.

“Oldest is 13, youngest was born a few months ago.” He glances at me for a moment. “I know what you want to ask. Yes, they are way younger than I am. Mom was 16 when she had me. When she met my stepdad, I was already 10.”

“Your stepdad?”

Dshawn nods. “Yeah, he’s basically my dad, though. I’ve been calling him dad for a long time now. When I talk about my dad, I mean him.”

“And…?” I don’t know if I should ask about this more, since he seems to hate talking about this.

“Where’s my real dad?” he finishes for me. “He’s in jail.”


We’re both silent for a long time, watching a girl crying while Dr. Phil tells her just what she should do to make her family whole again. I want to ask what Dshawn’s dad in jail for, but just when I want to open my mouth to speak, Dshawn shifts and kisses me. His hands knot in my hair and I kiss him back hungrily, letting my hands move over his muscular chest.

“Sorry about last night,” Dshawn says huskily when we break apart.

I look up at him in surprise. “About what?”

“About falling asleep before you got into bed with me. I felt so stupid when I woke up this morning and realized that I had just passed out. I blame the alcohol.” He moves one hand from my hair to my waist, pulling me closer. “I very much would have liked to kiss you goodnight.”

“Kissing me good morning is pretty nice too,” I reply with a smile.

He grunts and grabs my waist with both hands so he can pull me on top of him. I’m now straddling him, the robe slightly falling open when he tugs at the belt. I reach for his face and kiss him again, enjoying how warm and soft he is. Soon enough, he opens my robe completely, slipping it off of me and throwing it onto the floor.

“Holy fuck,” he breathes when he pulls back to look at my body. His hands move to my back and he unclasps my bra, sliding the straps down my arms and tossing it aside. His mouth latches onto my left nipple while he uses his hand to softly caress my other breast.

I moan and mindlessly grind against him, feeling how hard he already is, his dick pressing against me, twitching impatiently. Dshawn grunt against my skin and then gets up from the couch, my legs still around his waist as he walks us to the bedroom, his fingers digging into my waist to keep a firm grip on me.

I expect him to just throw me on the bed, but instead he lowers me down with great care before tugging off my panties. His eyes move over my body and he grunts in appreciation, making me even hotter than I already am. I expected this last night, but not now. Not when we were just talking about his family, watching Dr. Phil. Not that I’m complaining. I know that this is exactly what I shouldn’t be doing, but there’s no way I’m backing out now.

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