The flushing of the toilet caused the ancient water pipes to groan, waking Cynthia. Her pillow on the floor explained why her neck ached. For a moment, she remained, head resting against the hard sofa arm, and stared through blurry eyes at the faded paint on the ceiling. The events of the past evening replayed in her mind. A glance at her newly-acquired, hairy knuckles proved what had happened was all too real.
Her bladder screamed to be emptied, and something strained against the front of her jeans. She reached to adjust her crotch and grimaced. "Oh sheesh!" Her fingers found the morning "woody" guys always talked about.
She yanked her hand from beneath the blanket like it was on fire. Covering her face, she bemoaned her fate. The bathroom beckoned, but she wasn't ready for what else awaited her. The idea of touching Alex's penis was bad enough; she wasn't sure she knew how to aim one.
Unable to stand the growing discomfort, Cynthia passed Alex on her way into the bathroom. The sinister grin on his face told her he had already been. She glared at him. "I don't want to discuss it," she spat, and slammed the bathroom door behind her.
In front of the toilet, she inched down the zipper on her Levis. Scrunching her eyes closed, she gingerly reached inside the open fly, took hold of the engorged member with two fingers, and pulled it free. Opening one eye, she looked down at the toilet and calculated a line of fire. The stream of urine seemed never-ending, but brought immediate relief…and ended the erection.
She tucked the flaccid penis back inside, closed her zipper and washed her hands. Alex's face stared back from the mirror, and despite her present traumatic situation, she almost laughed. Five o'clock shadow was nothing she ever expected to have, but fretting about such a minor thing seemed ridiculous. She had bigger worries to deal with. Much bigger!