The end of the year was always a time for celebration, and our neighborhood took it seriously. This time, however, I had to sit it out. It was the busiest season at work, and while I wanted to join the gathering, I simply couldn’t afford to step away. Fortunately, Sarah, my fiancée and the person who balanced my chaotic schedule with effortless grace, had no such constraints. She went as our representative, promising to bring back all the stories and gossip I’d be missing.
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The night wore on. Sarah had not returned home yet. I found myself growing increasingly anxious, stealing glances at the clock between emails and project deadlines. I had told myself I wouldn’t worry—after all, it was just a friendly get-together. But as the hours ticked by, unease settled in. Something felt off.
I still waited for Sarah to return from the party.
At first, I tried to brush it off as mere paranoia. After all, Sarah was a grown woman, and she could take care of herself. But as the clock struck 10, then 11, and finally 12, I began to feel a growing sense of unease. Where was she?
I tried to distract myself by watching TV, but my mind kept wandering back to Sarah. I imagined her laughing and chatting with our neighbors, having a great time without me. But then, my mind started to wander to darker places. What if something happened to her?
Just as I was starting to get really worried, I heard the sound of the door opening. I jumped up from the couch, my heart racing with anticipation. And that's when I saw her – Sarah, stumbling into the apartment, completely drunk.
She staggered towards me, a sloppy grin spreading across her face, and I could tell that she had had way too much to drink. Her eyes were glassy, and her movements were unsteady. I felt a pang of concern, but also a twinge of relief that she was safe.
As she drew closer, I noticed that she wasn't wearing her panties. Her skirt was hiked up, and I could see the outline of her pussy, glistening with moisture. My mind began to wander to all the worst-case scenarios, and I felt a pang of jealousy and concern.
What had happened at the party? The thought made my stomach turn, and I felt a wave of anger and possessiveness wash over me.
But before I could even react, Sarah leaned in to kiss me. And that's when I caught a whiff of a strange smell, like sperm, coming from her mouth. I pulled back, my eyes scanning her face, and that's when I saw it – cum dripping from her pussy, down her thighs, and onto the floor.
My mind reeled as I tried to process what I was seeing. Sarah must have fucked someone. No, with this amount of cum, it must be some oneS.
Sarah was far from sober since she returned. She was completely intoxicated, her movements unsteady, her words slurred. I tried asking her what had happened at the party, but she didn’t answer—just mumbled incoherently and stumbled toward the bedroom. The more I pressed, the more she withdrew, leaving me with a sinking feeling that something wasn’t right.
But before I could even react, Sarah spoke up, her voice slurred and unconscious. "Who's next?" she muttered, her eyes glassy and unfocused. And then, she reached out and grabbed my dick, pulling me towards her. It was as if she was still at the party, waiting for the next guy in line to take his turn with her. The implication was clear, and it made my blood run cold.
It was like a switch had been flipped, and suddenly, I was overcome with a mix of emotions – anger, jealousy, and arousal. I felt like I was going to explode, and I didn't know how to process what was happening.
As I looked into Sarah's eyes, I saw a glimmer of something there, a spark of recognition, but it was quickly extinguished by her drunken haze. She was completely out of it, and I knew that I had to take care of her, to make sure she was safe.
I led her to the bedroom. I didn't have the answers, but as I looked at Sarah, lying there, cum still dripping from her pussy, I knew that I had to confront her about what had happened. I gently cleaned her up, wiping away the cum that was still dripping from her pussy. As I did, I was shocked to find that there was still a lot of sperm inside her. I used a warm washcloth to clean her out.
Then, I noticed that her ass hole was also filled with sperm. I used a finger to slightly stretch her ass hole. Another load of sperm poured out. I was shocked by the amount of cum that was inside her holes.
I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself down. I knew that I had to take care of Sarah, no matter what had happened. I gently cleaned her up, making sure to remove all of the cum from her body.
The next morning, I woke up feeling anxious and unsure of how to approach the situation. Sarah was still fast asleep, but I knew I had to talk to her about what had happened the night before. I gently shook her awake, and she stirred, looking up at me with a confused expression.
"Hey, what's wrong?" she asked, her voice groggy.
"We need to talk about last night," I said, trying to keep my tone neutral.
Sarah's expression changed, and she looked at me with a mixture of concern and fear. "What about last night?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
I took a deep breath and told her everything – about her coming home drunk, about the cum on her pussy, and about her grabbing my dick and saying "who's next". Sarah listened, her eyes wide with shock and horror.
"I don't remember anything," she said, her voice shaking. "My last memory was being at the party, and I was the only woman there. I remember feeling a bit uncomfortable, but that's it."
I felt a pang of sadness and concern for her. She had no idea what had happened, and I wasn't sure if I should tell her. But as we talked, I realized that I had to know the truth, and I had to confront the people who might have been involved.
I decided to step out of our apartment and see if I could gather any information. As I walked out into the hallway, I was greeted by our neighbor guys, who were all standing outside their apartments, chatting and laughing. But as soon as they saw me, their expressions changed, and they all broke out into wide grins.
"Hey, man, how's it going?" one of them asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
I felt a surge of anger and suspicion. What did they know? Had they been involved in what had happened to Sarah?
"I'm fine, thanks," I replied, trying to keep my cool. "Just wondering if anyone saw anything unusual last night."
The guys all exchanged glances, and I could tell they were trying not to laugh. "Unusual?" one of them repeated. "What do you mean?"
I took a deep breath and decided to confront them. "I mean, did anyone see Sarah coming home last night? Did anyone see her with anyone else?"
The guys all burst out laughing, and I felt my anger boil over. "What's so funny?" I demanded.
One of them, a tall, muscular guy, stepped forward. "Dude, you have no idea what happened last night, do you?" he said, his voice dripping with amusement.
I felt a chill run down my spine. What did he mean? What had happened to Sarah?
"Tell me," I said, my voice low and menacing.
The guy just laughed and clapped me on the back. "You'll find out, man. You'll find out."
And with that, he and the other guys turned and walked away, leaving me feeling frustrated, angry, and more determined than ever to get to the bottom of what had happened to Sarah.
To be continue.