Amy stood up from the kitchen table and loudly grabbed a frying pan from the cabinet. "Good idea. I'll make us something to eat and make sure I'm extra noisy so we interrupt ass-clown's beauty rest. Go turn on some music."
I plugged my iPod into the stereo and blasted Incubus while Amy proceeded to bang shit around in the kitchen.
Forty-five minutes later...
Amy and I had now successfully cooked breakfast, eaten said breakfast, cleaned up the kitchen, and listened to the entire Morning View album by Incubus on surround sound. Yet, there was still no sign from Mr. Sleeping Beauty. I decided to take matters into my own hands and leave my dignity in the kitchen. I headed into my bedroom and forcefully shut my door, the slamming vibration nearly sending shockwaves throughout the entire apartment. I looked towards my bed, hopeful that Mystery Guy would start to stir.
No flinch.
No startle.
Not a single budge.
What the hell?
If I couldn't have visibly seen this guy breathing, I'd have been worried that he was dead. I cleared my throat loudly. "Excuse me... Uhhh...are you awake?"
Still no response.
Now I was starting to get a little pissed at Mr. Sleeping Dead. Again, I cleared my throat as loudly as humanly possible. "Hey. You. Guy. Could you wake the fuck up?"
And still, no response. This guy might as well have been in a coma.
Who sleeps this deeply and doesn't hear a single thing all morning?
I looked towards the night stand to make sure there wasn't a small hearing aid missing its owner. . And just thinking that thought brought up drunken flashbacks from the previous night into my head...
I'm looking down at this incredibly attractive man as I continue to ride his cock. He's looking up at me in a seductive, euphoric way. Who cares that he's deaf right? I mean, this guy is unbelievable sexy. Blond hair, chocolate brown eyes, and a set of washboard abs that would make any girl's panties wet.
I've taken care of people with hearing impairments. I know sign language…a little.
I managed to get him back to my apartment and undressed, so that's all that really matters at this point. He flips me on my back and starts thrusting deeper inside of me.
Damn, this guy knows how to use his dick.
He's average-sized, but he has nice girth and I know he's got the tools to bring me to orgasm.
"Oh yesssss! Harder! Harder!" I yell and can't ignore the fact that my drunken slur has it sounding more like "Uh Yessss! Hardhurts! Hardhurts!"
Oh well. He can't hear me anyway.
He abruptly stops the thrusting and just stares down at me with a look of concern.
What the fuck? Why isn't this guy continuing to screw my brains out?
"No! No! No! Keep going! Go! Now! Move your dick! Keeping moving your dick!" I say with urgency.
He's still not moving and is just looking at me. Oh no. He was good at lip-reading at the bar, but I bet he's having a hard time understanding my Tequila English.
What's the sign for harder? Think, Ellen! Think! Sign for harder? Pelvic thrusting motion? That would probably work…
I blinked back the drunken flashback and flushed cherry red with embarrassment.
Holy mother of pearl! This guy is actually hearing impaired!
I'd brought a deaf guy home, and I'd been trying to wake him up all morning by making noise. Noise he couldn't hear because he was motherfucking deaf! I slapped my forehead with my right hand, dragged it over my eyes, and then slowly shook my head.
How in the hell had I managed this one? I drunkenly brought a deaf guy home from the bar, blacked out, and woke up without remembering any details. Oh wait, I had some details. The mortifyingly embarrassing ones! I was pretty sure I'd attempted to sign "harder" to him by motioning a pelvic thrust with my hips and arms.
Ground, please swallow me up! Lightning, strike me dead right here in my bedroom!
After several moments of self-deprecation, I decided to end this embarrassing moment by tapping his back with my foot. Mystery Guy rolled over on his back and sleepily looked over at me. I forced a tight smile on my face and gave a slight wave.
Oh great. Now I'm waving hello at this guy.
I was waving hello at the guy I was standing three feet away from, and less than twelve hours ago, he'd been muff-diving like a god damn professional. Now that I was starting to recall bits and pieces of last night, I could definitely remember that this guy had some serious oral skills. If the Olympics had muff-diving as an event, he would definitely be on the medal stand with the Star-Spangled Banner loudly playing while the American flag hung proudly behind him.
That guy had eaten my pussy like a fat guy on death row smothering himself in a box of Twinkies.
Mystery Guy smirked back at me before grabbing his cell phone from my night stand and checking the time. I could tell by his facial expression that he was shocked it was almost noon.