Summer mornings are always the worst. I stagger out of bed, blinded by the sun that pours through the blinds of every room in the house. The first thing I get to see when I manage to peel my eyes open is the first piss of the day resting in the toilet bowl. It's a bright, copper orange and serves as a dead giveaway that I am hung-over. I don't care too much though. I feel pretty good. I feel pretty invincible. I finish up in the bathroom, doing my usual daily chores of vanity and hygiene and check myself in the mirror. I look good. I've shaved five years off my face but I am looking good. There's not a single cut, scratch or nick. I've kept a steady hand when I so frequently get the shakes. I am invincible. It's going to be a good day - one of the best.
I float downstairs and slot myself behind the wheel of my car. It all feels right - mirrors, seatbelt, ignition and clutch. It all feels right. It's going to be a smooth ride, I can just taste it. I point the thing towards work and get rolling. The hours will slip by today. It's one of the better ones. I'll even hit the bars on the way home as a reward.
After dishing out the usual spiel, it only took a round of shots and a couple of cocktails to get her back to mine. Soon we were fumbling with each other's clothes until we were left with nothing on but the skin we were born in. I had to spit on it to get it inside her, but once it was in it was good. We were drunk. She gripped me tightly and moaned like she was set to die. She had claimed she had never done this before, but that was clearly a lie. She sunk her nails into the small of my back, so I bit down on her shoulder and thrust myself in deeper. She liked that. Outside the window a train rolled by. The tracks were so close to the building that when the trains did rattle past, the bulb that hung above my bed would swing back and forth, causing the light to play about the room. It was an irritating distraction. I pulled out, bent her over and buried her face into the pillow, working my way back into her. The light continued to rock back and forth and I felt a migraine coming along. I needed to finish soon before it ruined everything. I pounded away as quickly as I could; bouncing off of her round, white rear. She let out a loud squeal as I filled her with long spurts of warm come. Whether or not she came too, I didn't care. I rolled over and stared at the ceiling as the light gradually came to a halt. I thought about rolling a cigarette. I thought about all the other girls and all the other days. I had definitely had better ones before.