Last Name

"Screech!" The sound of my alarm clock dragged me out of my drunken slumber. There was a body next to mine, but I didn't have the energy to figure out who it belonged to. My hand finally bumped the snooze button and then I used my fingers to pinch the bridge of my nose. Never again would I allow my friends talk me into going into a straight bar and doing shots of tequila off of random people.

"Turn that thing off," The man lying next to me mumbled. He was five minutes late but I couldn't blame him, he had even more to drink than I had. My head turned ever so slightly and I realized who he was. Elvis Something or another, the former Quarterback for the town's high school football team. Right after we graduated, he married the Lead Cheerleader and they lived miserably after ever. He drank a lot, she drank more. Their fights were legendary. Then one day thy found out that they had been sleeping with the same married man. "How did I get here again?"

The truth was, I wasn't certain either. Bits and pieces of the night floated into my mind. There was the hot bartender who I had been hitting on the entire night. He kept saying things like 'Dude I'm straight, I like girls.' Please when has that ever mattered to men? As long as a warm mouth is wrapped around their cock, it wouldn't matter to a man, who it belonged to. When Elvis came in, it was almost as of the entire bar decided to stop and watch as he walked in.

"Who the hell are you?" His whiny voice dragged me out of the haze. There was no point in being mad at him, in just a few minutes we would return to not remembering that the other existed. He stretched out, his furry body made the blood rush to my cock. In high school I was a drama geek and he was the football hero. There was no reason that our paths would ever cross, and that was true right up until last night. Tequila, body shots, and peer pressure will result in a lot of weird things. He turned his head towards me and almost gasped. "I'm not gay you know. Last night was a onetime thing."

"I'm sure that's what you said to your last male lover too," Even in a hung over state, my snarkiness was not matched by anyone. Instead of responding, he reached over and pulled me towards him. His fingers kneaded my nipples. As his tongue probed my mouth. Another flash came to me when I closed my eyes, he had grabbed me after I was gone tonguing the alcohol out of the waitress' belly button and planted a long, passionate kiss on me then too.
He broke the kiss and began nuzzling my neck. I wrapped my legs around him, and brought his body even closer to mine. Wet kisses were planted all the way down my body, until he reached my cock. His tongue ran over it first, then his lips went around the head of my cock. His mouth was soft and warm. Ecstasy was taking over my body, nothing else mattered except what we were doing in this moment.

As his cock pushed into my hole, I closed my eyes again. There was a rush of tingling that swept over my body as he pushed in half an inch at a time. When I opened my eyes, they were met with his chocolate brown peepers. There was an intensity in his look that was both erotic and a little disturbing. Slowly he began to move his member in and out of me, harder and faster as he went along. Gently I brought his head down to mine and puckered my lips. He placed his over mine and bit my bottom lip.
Something about that made me think of a minister and a chapel. The though cleared out of my mind as he increased the thrusting and my cock squirted my orgasm all over me. Just a few short minutes later he emptied his own orgasm inside of me.

There was a towel on the side of the bed, Elvis grabbed it for me and started to wipe me off. His eyes never met mine but everything he was doing seemed so sweet, so boyfriend like. It almost made me wish that it wasn't a one night stand. Sighing I closed my eyes again and tried to will the crush away.

Words floated into my mind that made no sense to me at all. "Do you take this man to be your lawfully wed husband?" It was the Priest's voice. But we had been at the bar, not church.

"Are we married?" Elvis asked, thrusting a piece of paper into my hands. It was a marriage certificate with our names on it but his last name were smudged. "How the fuck do I keep ending up married to people after a night of drinking?"
The hang over headache that I thought was gone came roaring back. How could I not even know my own last name?