Party Planning–8
Sunday (Epilogue)
“AAAAHHH!!”
I was woken up the best way I can possibly imagine for a girl to be woken—Maurice spread my legs, crawled between them, and rammed his cock into me.
My parents were not very happy when they came home last night. They ended the party, kicked everybody out, and then sat down with me to talk.
My father asked a hundred questions without ever giving me a chance to answer: “What happened to chastity? What made you think this was ok? Were you using protection? What is wrong with you? What’s happened to my little girl?”
My mother just sat next to him and cried. The first words she spoke were when she looked at me and told me to get out of her house. My father didn’t argue. They gave me time to pack a bag and said I could come back for the rest when I found an apartment...and then I was out the door and into a hotel for the night with Maurice.
That’s how Maurice came to be my lovely alarm clock. We fucked away the morning until it was time that we knew we had to take care of some business. As I had only worn it for a couple hours yesterday, I put my new belt-length skirt back on with no panties and one of the new tank tops I got yesterday.
Our first order of business was the local Planned Parenthood. My father did have a good point when he mentioned protection. I had a figure I just wasn’t willing to lose yet, so they were able to get me a morning after pill and help me get set up with some birth control pills, too. I planned on needing them.
Our second order of business was to find a place to live. We got a small apartment; it was really all we could afford as neither of us had jobs yet and they wanted a deposit. Unfortunately, the deposit was all the cash we had. At least it was a place to live. It was also furnished, which we needed. Since it was vacant they agreed to let us move in today and handed us the keys.
My outfit made my third order of business pretty easy: getting a job. The club let me right in. As it turns out, you can make tons of money if you don’t mind taking your clothes off at work, and getting a job is easy if you fuck the club owner. I made enough money on my first night to cover the deposit we had to put on our apartment. I’m not sure why everybody complains about the economy.
Of course, I did have one last thing I needed to do today between finding my job and show time at the club. I went back to the mall in search of the little tattoo parlor that gave me my cherry. The artist grinned when he saw me.
“So, ready to get it crossed out?” he asked.
I smiled coyly, “Yep, but I’m sorry...I simply don’t have any money to pay you. Surly there’s something else besides a needle you’d like to stick in me that would work for payment?”
There was, and he was perfectly happy to accept sex as payment for a 2 minute tattoo.
When I got back from the club for the night Maurice was waiting at the apartment with his own bag. He must have told his parents he was moving out, too. I would have to get the rest of my stuff during the week. Either way it was pretty late and we had school in the morning so we went upstairs, set an alarm and climbed into bed. Then, after riding him to two delicious orgasms, we both fell asleep.