her bare feet barely made a sound on the grimy hardwood floors. her eyes flittered across the ground, searching for her underwear. where was her bra? she didn’t care about the panties, those were old and disgusting anyway. but she didn’t want to leave her nice new bra behind. that thing had been expensive after all. and she was sure she’d never see him (or want to see him) again anyway. so leaving without it was not an option.
the boy was snoozing on his bed. in sheets that looked even dirtier in the morning sun. she didn’t mind last night, face pressed into the pillow while he ate her out from behind (and almost made her come), but now she shuddered. the room was a mess. a cliche student abode: cups of old coffee, crumpled up tissue paper (surely not from a cold), stacks of study books and full ashtrays scattered around. clothes everywhere. she wasn’t the perfect picture of cleanliness herself, but that was too much.
finally a peek of black lace under the dusty desk. how had it gotten there? whatever. quick fingers snatched it and stuffed it in her coat pocket. she was fully dressed (if a slinky dress, big faux-fur coat and no underwear could be called ‘dressed’) and reached for her bag and boots. she was sure she’d make it out unnoticed if she left right now. the boy had been stirring too much and must be close to waking up. and she didn’t want to face him this morning, or ever again.
