Her name wasn’t really Red, but that was what everyone called her. And that was because she wore almost exclusively red. Clothes, shoes, lipstick, even underwear. That, coupled with her hourglass figure, made every man that saw her pause and take notice.
That Sunday morning, she wasn’t wearing any clothes or underwear, and her lipstick had faded from the night before. The sun creeping in through the window woke her, and she realized it was already ten. She sat up, still groggy from her slumber.
“Good morning,” came a voice from her right. Startled, she turned her head, only to discover a man. A big, dark-skinned man, as naked as she was and lying on her bed. Then she remembered.
She had brought him home from the club last night. She had sucked his cock in the bathroom, and he had fingered her to orgasm. Then, in the taxi ride home, he had eaten her out like a famished man, making her come again. And finally, at her apartment, he had fucked her six ways from Sunday, just as she liked it. He didn’t hold anything back, and she had lost count of how many more times she came.