Life of a party girl

Back to the this morning and I'm sat on the toilet. The strange shaped lump in my bed, my thighs aching and the smell of aftershave the covers me tells me one- there is definitely a man in my bed. And two - we fucked and rather energetically from what my thighs suggest. So it wasn't the sweet bartender James - as nice as he is and please don't misunderstand when I say this -the sex is good but it's not the type you'd lay in bed and think about it or the kind that makes you shiver when the memory flits through your brain and it is definitely not the kind of sex that would make my very used thighs hurt ! So who the fuck is this guy ? If only he wasn't hiding under the covers with my duvet wrapped around him like a bloody caterpillar . I wiped , washed my hands and had a quick brush of my teeth. Grabbing a brush I violently attacked my dragged through a hedge backwards hair style until it resembled something presentable. One baby wipe later and I shuf