“Okay, I’ll see you when you get here,” Reese said, then hung up. Closing her eyes and taking a few deep breaths, Reese slid out of the bed. When she stood up, her legs felt like noodles. Her pussy still throbbed from the wild night she had had at Don B.’s suite. Due to all the drugs and alcohol she had ingested, she could only remember bits and pieces of what had gone on.

As the haze lifted from her brain, images of what she had done flashed through her mind, causing her to hang her head in shame. Don B. and his squad took turns pounding her pussy well into the morning. She knew she had played herself, but the coke and whatever else they had given her had turned her into someone else. It was as if she was watching the whole thing from the front row as opposed to being center stage. Afterward, he had offered to take her to breakfast, but she could barely walk, let alone eat. He dropped her off in front of her building and promised to call her later. Whether he would actually keep his word or not was another story.

Reese half staggered into the hallway, where her nose was immediately assaulted by the smell of her mother’s cooking. Normally she would’ve reveled in the delicious aromas, but in the condition she was in, all it did was upset her stomach further. She had barely made it to the bathroom before the liquor and fast food she had ingested the day before came spilling out. Reese continued to throw up until her stomach was empty, then waited out the dry heaves. The cool porcelain of the toilet against her head made her feel a little better, but did nothing to help with her nausea. When she was finally able to stand, she climbed into the shower.

The water was so hot that it threatened to boil her tender skin, but she forced herself to stay under the scalding stream. The steam helped ease the throbbing in her vagina, but it would probably be a while before she was able to have sex again. She washed herself over and over, but still felt dirty.

When Reese turned the water off, she heard someone pounding on the door. Living with five people and only having one bathroom didn’t allow for a whole lot of self time. It seemed as if every time she got in the bathroom, someone else had to use it. She sucked her teeth and ignored it, while she began the task of drying herself. The banging continued, followed by the high-pitched voice of her younger sister, Sharon.

“Reese, I know you hear me!” Sharon shouted.

“I’m using the bathroom, what the hell do you want?” Reese shot back.

“Someone’s on the phone for you.”