The house is full of damp clothes and must smell like Sunday morning in a brothel. My hair looks like I’ve been dragged through a hedge. My hair and...whole body are salty with dried piss and I can feel the stretch of dried cum on my back. My mouth feels like leather. I’ve got Chinese takeaway breath, why do I always have those spring onions?At the bottom of the stairs I grabbed the pile of damp clothes we took off coming back from the restaurant, bundled them into the dining room. What’s that. I grabbed a couple and started wiping Cheryl down with them."What are you doing," she grumbled, pushing my hands away."You're a little sweaty," I told her. "I'm just wiping the sweat off you." And some other assorted fluids but I didn't think it wise to mention them. "Are you going to get dressed or just lie there tempting me to try again?" I asked.Her eyes popped open and she grabbed for her bikini, apparently only just remembering that she was naked. Not that that bikini made all that much. More

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