memoirs froma drunken night

I rolled to my back and tried to lick away the foul taste of bile left in mouth. The events of the night befor still hazy and lost to my half concious mind. I felt somone stir beside me I knew it was Scott but it wasn't what I wanted. I felt my stomach churn and schlosh around the mess of beer, wine and vodka. What had I done to myself? What had I become? Somthing less than the person I had been a few months back. The goran that came from my sleeping partner starteld my into conciousness. I looked at Scott watching him as he still slept, he didn't care and I knew he didn't. He just wanted to chase away whatever had left him bitter. I was the same. Four girls the night before had dissappeared into his bed and I was not one of them. I wondered how somone could ever live like this, waking up to hot sticky mouths washed in the taste of alcohol, the remenants of four different people left to scrub away, and a feeling of self loathing to bathe in. I couldn't and I hated him for asking me to. So what he was a guy just another dick survivng in this world.
As he came into the first moment of the morning I felt his gaze turned on me, he was angry. I know that the things I had done the night before were not things to revel in but it was a hellova lot less than what he did. " I can't do this" he uttered, " I can't". My reply was simple " Than Don't". He looked at me for a little while longer than moved the blanket aside and showed me his jutting hard on as if I was supposed to care. I moved soundlessly from the bed and went downstairs. I was cold and angry with myself. I knew this had to be the bottom I had finally hit bottom. I had been falling for months and I finally hit down somewhere cold and lonely. A place where my own actions left barren of simple emotion and pushed back down into reality. I felt his arms wrap around me he was still hard. " Come help me fix this" he pushed his cock further into my back. " Take me home" was all I said. I didn't want him I didn't even want myself.
I managed to get through work with half a brain the night before running through my head almost seemlessy. The girls moans and the way she bit her lip when my tongue pulled at her flesh. Her name was Trista a name I would later forget and she was 15. I couldn't get the taste of sex out of my mouth. His name I still can't recall but the feel of his body as he came. I never came I just watched and hated myslef even more. I realised about lunch time that I had a hangover. My boss could tell I was left with hardly much energy he told me to go home. I did I crawled into the sheets of my bed and cried.