Falling Down(90)

"Fuuuuuuck." I come hard and it keeps going on and on, each thrust releasing more cum and more pleasure.
When she collapses back onto the bed, I fall on top of her, our bodies still shaking from the strength of our orgasms.
"Holy f*ck," she whispers.
"Yeah," I whisper through my pants.
"I think they heard me screaming," she says with a giggle. "I heard them cheering."
I laugh into her neck. "That was so f*cking hot, Lucy. You screaming my name."
"It was so good."
I grunt as I get up and head to the bathroom to wash up. I grab a clean washcloth and wet it with warm water then fill a cup with cold water and grab some ibuprofen.
I get back to the bed and kneel next to her.
"Spread your legs."
She eyes me warily but complies.
"Damn if that isn't a pretty f*cking sight. Our cum mixed and leaking out your *. I almost hate to wash it away."
"If you don't, you're laying in the wet spot," she says with a laugh.
I raise my eyebrows and hand Lucy the water and pills and she murmurs her thanks as I gently wipe between her legs until she's clean. I toss the washcloth into the hamper and crawl back into bed, snuggling up to her from behind, wrapping my arm around her and burying my face in her neck.
"Mmm," she wiggles back against me. "I'm sore again."
I grin against her neck. There's that caveman again pounding on his chest.
She lets out a sigh.
"What is it?"
"It's really going to suck when this ends."
"Who says it has to?"
She shakes her head. "It will. This won't be enough when you're out on tour and I'm touring somewhere else."
I grunt, not knowing what to say but hating that what she said might be true. Fucking hell. I can't imagine f*cking anyone but Lucy, but when we're drunk out on the road… I let the thought drift. Unless… huh. That thought has possibilities that make me feel better, good enough to pull Lucy back tighter into me. I smile into her hair as I drift off to sleep listening to her really cute drunk snuffle snore.
***~~~***
She wakes up, bolting upright and running for the bathroom. I follow and hold her hair back just as she throws up. And damn does she throw up. I reach over with my free hand to wet a cloth with cool water and hold it to the back of her neck as she pukes and pukes and pukes. Her stomach is a never-ending pit, I swear. She only ate three pieces of pizza. Jesus. Where is it all coming from?
I flush for her as she catches her breath and moans. I press the washcloth to her forehead.
"I'm sorry, Jesse."
"No, Lucy. Don't be sorry. It's okay. I'm sorry you feel so shitty."
"It was my dream that triggered it," she tells me getting up on shaky legs. I lift her up onto the countertop and hand her a cup of mouthwash. She rinses, gargles, and spits. Then reaches for her toothbrush and toothpaste and brushes her teeth and tongue before rinsing her mouth.
"What was the dream?" I ask as she drinks a cup of water.
She sighs. "Fucking press conference. Nightmare."
"Damn, babe," I say, pulling her to my chest. "You really have a lot of anxiety over that, huh?"
"And then some. I'll show you," she says, "as soon as my wobbly legs get back to normal."
I chuckle. "You sure you're okay."
She nods.
"Up you go." I carry her to the bed.
"I need my laptop."
"Stay put. Where is it?" I ask turning on the bedside lamp.
"In the laptop bag over by the window seat." I nod and grab it for her. I hand it to her and she pulls out the laptop, booting it up. When she pulls out a case and a pair of glasses and puts them on. I can't hold back my surprise.