Enjoy!! We've only had this part written since July ;)

Her back hit the wall with a force that was almost punishing, but the alcohol in her system and the dull ache which pulsed exquisitely in the pit of her stomach silenced her pain. His hand pressed firmly between her thighs, hoisting her short skirt into a belt of crumpled material around her hips. As he rubbed his fingers against her underwear with steady pressure, he could feel the hot damp of her arousal and the space in his already restrictive jeans seemed to lessen as his body responded. Her legs seemed to have left the floor without her realising and were wrapping strongly around him as he simultaneously hoisted her higher up the wall. Her right foot extended, hooking her toes on the edge of the dresser as she seemed to scrabble higher, rubbing herself against his body as his hands left their ministrations to attend to the bows at the side of her bikini briefs, and left her frustrated. It was as if neither of them knew where to touch when or next or for how long, so desperate where they to explore each others bodies so completely in the same instant. As his fingers fumbled with the cotton-lycra, his mouth sought the same material, hovering over her breast and drawing her in, the material still damp from his earlier efforts and vaguely tasting of the jelly he'd spread in the process. All the while, she ground against him; his pelvis, his leg, his chest, wherever her hips fell as he held her pinned. Her one hand tangled in his hair as she rained kisses over his head, holding him against her chest as he suckled on her throbbing peaks, while the other danced down his back, stroking and clutching at the skin she exposed as she pulled up his shirt.

He lowered her slightly as his battle between successfully undoing the knotted material at her hip and his desire to taste the budded flesh that was hidden from him was won out and he decided that the bikini top had to go. Still pinned by the weight of his body, she rested one foot on tip toe and the other still on the dresser as he held her hip steady with one hand and raised the other to undo the fastening holding the bikini in place. Leaning forward to aid him, she lowered her leg, hooking it around him and clung around his neck, attaching her mouth to his as her hands roamed her back, unrestricted, under the hi-vis jacket. The seemed to spin through 180 degrees as their balance was lost and they tumbled back towards the wall, positions reversed. She stepped backwards, an elegant shrug sending the fluorescent waistcoat to the floor. The sea green material still enveloped her pert mounds, suspended from its final tie around her neck, and he moved towards her, kissing her shoulder as he stepped behind her.

A shudder seemed to run through her spine as she felt him softly but clumsily sweep her hair away and fiddle with the tight knot she'd tied and a fit of giggles ensued from both parties as she resorted to, somewhat less seductively, whipping the garment over her head instead. Still behind her, his arms reached around her stomach, pulling her flush against his body and roughly sliding his hands into the top of her briefs as he lavished attention down her neck and onto the junction with her shoulder. Her breath hitched as she wondered if his hand would keep going, but he seemed contented as he was, sucking hard against her clammy skin, grazing his teeth and tongue against her, as his fingers flirted under her pants with the neat line between the silken flesh of her mound and the straight neat line of her bikini wax. His other hand clasped at her left breast, kneading the flesh with an urgency which matched her need for him to do so. He rolled the taught nipple, dark and dusky pink with stimulation, between his thumb and first finger and she cried out at the shocks running through her and her desire for more. She stumbled as she turned; a heady combination of desire and cocktails unsteadied her footing and clouded her mind as she sought to get him in a state of undress appropriate to satisfying the urges coursing through her intoxicated mind, swimming with the images she'd been building all night. He caught her as she tripped, equally unsure of his own feet, lurching forwards with her and toppling towards the end of the mattress where her back hit the edge and he landed against her diagonally draped body.

Through their broken laughter, racking their body uncontrollably, their tongues danced as their mouths drew together. It seemed, in that moment, the most amusing and most arousing encounter either could ever remember experiencing, although in their drunken wonder at the sudden intricacies of each others bodies and their desperate bid to scramble higher up the bed, they were hardly capable of much recollection or reflection. The feel of her tugging off his mostly-open shirt silenced his laughter and commanded her attention enough for hers to cease also, as the gravity of their passion pulled them back to the moment. He was settled with his knee between her legs as her hand stroked down along his back, sliding first into his jeans and then into his underwear to grope at the flesh of his buttock, her other hand on the opposite side of his body, pushing the material down at his hip.

He was hard and fired up with desire and he groaned with frustrated anticipation at the feel of her warm hands on his ass, imagining how they would feel raking over him, nails digging in firmly as he thrust into her. His head flashed to a favourite fantasy as her hands worked at the denim and as he rolled them over to help her attempts at freeing him, his mind was full of long held images of him delicately undressing her, caressing her with a tenderness he knew he hadn't shown tonight, before laying her down and moving over her, watching her as he brought her to a shattering climax.

"I caaan..t," he slurred a little as he tried to get his brain to focus away from the friction of his jeans against his penis as she slid them down a short way. "I'm sorry."

She felt him through his cotton boxer-briefs. "I'd beg to differ. You could say, I have hard evidence."

"No, I mean," he rolled over and ran his hand across his face, "not like this. I think we're drunker than we think we are," he tried to explain, although he couldn't quite fathom that one himself.

"No, Harry, I think you're as drunk as I think I am. I need you to fuck me."

"No."

"Harry, Harry pleeeease." She clutched at her own breast and arched upwards provocatively. He groaned and shook his head at her and a panic set hold in her that he thought this was somehow all a big mistake. "I wanted you to love me, Harry," she trembled, and he could see the hurt in her eyes as she pawed at his face.

A rush of unchecked alcohol induced emotion rose un-bid to the surface and he felt himself moved almost to tears by the look on her face, finding himself making an impassioned declaration of his feelings which was, whilst truthful, more than a little dramatic. To his inebriated inner self, however, nothing seemed more important than a clarification of the regard in which he held her and he whispered his desire softly against the curve of her cheek as he held her to him.

"I promise you, Ruth, this isn't it. But I want us to remember it properly, and for the right reasons. I want to hold you in my arms and undress you bit by bit, kissing every part of you as I go, memorising you."

She nodded, her eyelids suddenly heavy now that both had stopped their exertions. "If you want to…if you change your mind," she brought his hand to her lower hip but he moved it away and smoothed her damp hair away from her face. "Thank you," she whispered.

He lay there a moment, before leaving the bed and tripping again as he tried to find his balance, a task not made any easier as his trousers dropped to his ankles. He kicked them off and almost stumbled again. He was fine until he moved but his eyes seemed to be on a timer delay and were having a hard time keeping up with his brain now that his primary focus was lost.

He clasped clumsily at the remnants of a bottle of wine the hen party had left in her room and padded into the bathroom to find clean glasses by the sink. "A toast," he called, excitedly, as if it was a suddenly brilliant idea. "We should toast a promise to one another."

He re-entered into the bedroom to find her already passed out on the mattress. He sat down heavily next to her, downed the two glasses full he had poured, and lay back with his arm across her.

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ps: don't throw things!!