His hand moved out along the sheets searching for the warmth that had radiated against him all the night. His fingers felt the edge of the bed before they curled into the sheets. He groaned and forced his eyes open as he rolled over onto his side. He looked at the empty place where she had been and shook his head. He fell back on his pillow and let his hand find his forehead. He pushed back a loose strand of crimson hair and stared up at the ceiling. She had got up and left with out him knowing it. He hadn't expected much more than that but he was left feeling a little confused. He knew that she would leave but yet he reached for her. He cussed audibly and pulled the sheet up to cover his nakedness. She just disappeared. What did that say about her? What did that say about him? He closed his eyes as a head ache started to pulse between his eyes. Just what happened last night? He remembered being at the bar, he remembered a woman approaching him. But between the time when she said hello and hitting his bedroom door was completely blank. Of course his mind remembered well what transgressed next and as if to prove a point his body responded in kind. He curled his nose up and brought his leg up to set his foot flat on the bed.
He didn't know her name or how old she was. He didn't know if she was from around there or if she was just visiting. He didn't know what kind of drinks she liked. Hell, the only thing he knew about her was where she was ticklish. And her laugh. He knew that laugh. He sat up- disgusted with himself for a reason he couldn't put his finger on. There wasn't any emotion boiling for her other than the lust that had consumed him. Was it that he fucked a girl he didn't know? Was it that he wanted to know more about her? Or was it the 'what' that he didn't know that was bothering him? His face blanched as his thoughts moved over to more dangerous territory. What if there was something she didn't want him to know? What if she was underage or worse, a carrier for some sort of disease? He slapped his forehead hard enough to knock himself back down to the bed. Why hadn't he thought of that the night before? He growled to himself as he looked down his body as his quickly deflating manhood. He didn't have the mind through his liquor to think to protect himself. He wasn't really worried about pregnancy. Hell, he wasn't even sure he could do that.
He shook the negative thoughts from his mind as he tried to remember her. He could see very clearly the swell of her hips and the rise of her breast. He could remember the feel of the bend of her back and the texture of her skin. The taste of her desire lingered on his lips and the smell of perfume danced every time he moved the sheets. She was a thing to be desired if he couldn't remember her face. Usually the eyes of his lovers would haunt him, leave him wandering just how deep that soul really went. But this girl, her eyes were blank. He couldn't remember them, couldn't picture them to save his life. He couldn't remember her facial features or how she wore her hair, or even what color it was for that matter. He remembered her lips and a soft pout they had given him before connecting with his own. He sat back up and grabbed his head. Why was her face such a blur? Why couldn't he remember what she looked like? He would blame the liquor for his memory lapse but that wouldn't explain why he could remember only certain things.