You agree

You’re too drunk to argue. And he's a nice-looking guy all things considered. So why not? He wraps an arm around your waist, and helps you out. You try to tell him how to reach your shop. Pointers, here and there, and vague mumbled words. But he doesn't go there. Instead, he guides you through a series of side streets, and you're too hazy to notice the direction until he stops in front of a rundown little house on the edge of the main street.

“Here we are,” he says, unlocking the door. “Here's my place. You can rest here for the night.”

The second the door closes, he grabs your waist and guides you down the short hallway to his bedroom. He pushes you onto his unmade bed. It smells of sweat and concentrated man. Before you can protest, he yanks your skirt up and your panties down, spreading your legs wide. He climbs on top of you and thrusts. The old bed beneath creaks, as he charges in with reckless abandon, stretching your insides.

“Fuck yes… such a good drunk slut,” he growls, gripping your hips. Then, sliding a hand to your right breast. Squeezing. “Letting a stranger take you home like this.” He leans down, breathing hotly. “Gonna fill you up good. Fuck. ” His thrusts become faster. His hands reach for your wrists, and clasps them tight. “Take my cum inside your womb, whore. Take it!”

He lets loose a final, deep groan, burying himself deep. The man cums. Thick, hot ropes of cum flood your pussy. Lying there, he grinds against you, hoping to make it stick, and panting all the while. Collapsing atop you with all his weight. After a while, he moves his lips to yours and shoves his tongue inside, kissing you with all the skill of a celibate monk.

He came inside me…

You’re drunk. Too drunk to really panic. But the thought is still there, floating in the warm fog. You just let a stranger finish inside you. And you know what?

Part of you doesn't hate it.