Reassembling the night
Ryan fluttered his eyes open but couldn't see, momentarily panicking the drink had finally sent him blind. He squeezed them shut, drew thumb and forefinger across his aching lids and off the bridge of his nose, clumps of sleep rolling with them. Counting to three, he tried again, relieved this time that his focus began to swim into view. Gooey shapes gradually gave way to harder lines and edges across the bed. He recoiled and tipped over the side into a tangled heap atop his discarded jeans....
Straight Sex