Lara made no attempt to help him. ‘Doesnmatter, leave it on,’ she mumbled, flopping back onto the bed. ‘Ow! Scratchy.’ She tossed a sequinned cushion to the floor with a hiccuppy giggle. Chris was kneeling over her, wearing nothing but his boxers and a single sock. Unsteadily, Lara lifted a leg until her foot was in line with his crotch. There was a large verruca on her big toe, surrounded by an escarpment of hardened skin.

‘Mashage?’ she asked.

Chris was confused. ‘You – you want me to give you a massage?’

‘Nooo,’ she said impatiently, as if he were being very stupid; then, with surprising coordination for someone so drunk, she pressed her foot against his penis and began to stroke it up and down. It was unorthodox but not unpleasant. Chris closed his eyes.

Pain followed by vague nausea: Lara’s foot had slipped, bringing her toes into contact with his balls. Chris opened his eyes and pulled her leg away from his crotch. He rubbed his subsiding erection, trying to ignore the ache in his balls. To his relief, he felt himself getting hard again. All he wanted now was to get this over with so he could sleep.

Still holding his cock with one hand, he tugged at Lara’s diamante-studded g-string. At this she became very animated, wriggling her legs enthusiastically to shuffle the g-string down and away and stroking her inner thighs in what was presumably meant to be a seductive, inviting manner.

‘Oooooo,’ she moaned. ‘Ooooo, I want you so bad.’

Chris moistened his cock with spit and, after several false starts, succeeded in pushing it into her. She was very tight; even in his drunken state, it wouldn’t take long for him to come like this. Lara accompanied his clumsy thrusting with a series of high-pitched sighs, each one slightly louder than the last.

Suddenly she went quiet and her features stiffened. For a moment, Chris thought she was about to orgasm; but then her cheeks bulged and she turned her head to vomit all over one of the sequined pillows. There was an extraordinary volume of the stuff, coloured a deep purple from all the red wine. Several strands of unchewed spaghetti glistened amongst the pulpy mess.

The vomit slithered slowly off the cushion and onto the mattress. Chris scrambled sideways, backing away from the sagging puddle as his cock softened and shrank.

* * *