🌶️ Sue’s After-Dark Diaries Episode 8: Morning Glory & the Misplaced Thong
🌶️ Sue’s After-Dark Diaries
Episode 8:
Morning Glory & the Misplaced Thong
Reader Intro
Welcome back to Sue’s After-Dark Diaries, where dignity is optional, orgasms are frequent (ish), and lingerie never stays where it’s meant to. In this episode, Morning Glory & the Misplaced Thong, I attempt a very grown-up brunch with Mark. There were croissants, there was chemistry… and there was a thong that made a surprise public reappearance. Oh, and Dan? Let’s just say he found his voice. Again.
Morning Glory & the Misplaced Thong
I woke up gloriously naked and only mildly confused. My thighs were sore in the best way, my hair looked like I’d wrestled a tumbleweed, and Mark was asleep next to me, snoring softly with his arm still wrapped around my waist like I might float away.
Dan, my ever-reliable rechargeable AI vibrator, was silent in the laundry basket. Thank god.
The post-sex glow was still warm on my skin, along with a few mystery bruises, and I lay there for a moment thinking, This is it. I’m a real adult. I’ve had good sex and now I deserve carbs.
“Brunch?” I whispered into Mark’s ear.
He blinked, then grinned sleepily. “Only if there’s bacon.”
I rolled out of bed, picked my knickers up from where they’d wrapped around the adjustable bedside lamp, and began the hunt for my clothes. That’s when I noticed it, my favourite red lace thong, its gone. Not on the floor, not hanging from the ceiling fan, not tucked in the duvet. Vanished.
I mentally retraced my steps from the night before. There was the failed Bond-girl entrance, the elbow jab, the fall off the bed, the second fall, the straddle cramp…
“Have you seen my thong?” I asked Mark, who was already halfway into his jeans.
He looked mildly alarmed. “Er… not recently? You were still wearing it when you tackled me.”
“Right. So… either I disintegrated it with raw lust, or it’s somewhere in this room plotting its next move.”
We gave up and left. Mark was too hungry to care, and I figured I could live without it. A minor sacrifice to the gods of pleasure. Besides, I was going commando in a floaty midi skirt. I felt free. Powerful. Mildly drafty.
Enter: The Brunch Scene
We strolled to the corner café, fingers interlaced, pretending we were normal people and not two sex-sticky adults who may or may not have broken my bed frame and Egyptian cotton bedsheets.
The café was a trendy little place full of plants, oat milk, and couples pretending to like each other. I ordered a mimosa and Mark ordered a “full English, none of that vegan nonsense,” and we settled into a cosy corner booth.
That’s when Sharon walked in. Yes. Sharon, my upstairs neighbour, community gossip queen, and self-appointed hall monitor of building morality. She spotted me immediately, eyes scanning from my tousled hair to Mark’s dishevelled shirt.
“Sue,” she chirped, sliding into the seat beside me uninvited. “You look… rested.”
“She means shagged,” Mark muttered into his sausage. I kicked him under the table.
“Oh, and who’s this handsome young man?” Sharon purred, zeroing in on Mark like a cougar who shops at Waitrose.
I smiled through gritted teeth. “Sharon, this is Mark. Mark, this is the reason I don’t collect my post after 7 p.m.”
“I brought scones,” she said, as if that justified the ambush. “And a few questions. Like… what on earth was vibrating in your flat last night around midnight? My wall ornaments fell off.”
Mark choked on his bacon.
I coughed into my mimosa. “It was the… washer. Off-balance drum.”
“Oh, I bet,” she sniffed, eyes glinting with suspicion and smugness.
The Return of the Thong
Mark shifted in his seat. Then again. Then again.
“Something’s… caught,” he muttered, reaching down the side of his trousers discreetly. His eyes widened.
I narrowed mine. “What?”
He slowly extracted something red, lacy, and devastatingly familiar from the bottom of his trouser leg.
“Oh my god,” I hissed, face burning.
My thong had hitchhiked its way down the inside of Mark’s jeans and made its grand entrance between the ketchup bottle and his toast.
Sharon gasped like she’d witnessed a crime. I grabbed the thong and stuffed it into my leather handbag with the desperation of someone hiding state secrets.
“Well,” Sharon said, practically vibrating with glee, “I suppose that answers my question.”
Dan’s Revenge
Just as I thought the worst was over, my handbag, my smug little traitor of a handbag, it began to buzz.
Not a little vibrate. Not a subtle brrr. No. This was Dan at full power, rave-mode, LED light flashing like a tiny disco ball of shame.
Mark froze. Sharon leaned in. “What’s that noise?”
“Phone,” I lied, yanking the bag onto my lap and pressing every button I could find inside it. Lip balm. Keys. Sunglasses. Emergency biscuit. Dan.
The buzzing intensified. I swear I felt heat radiating through the leather.
“Sounds like it’s enjoying itself,” Sharon quipped.
I managed to wedge Dan between two paper napkins and jammed him under the table. Mark was weeping into his beans.
And then, THEN, a large golden retriever at the next table, off-lead and friendly as hell, trotted over, stuck its nose in my handbag, and came out holding Dan in its mouth like it had just fetched the world’s most inappropriate chew toy.
The entire café stared. Sharon gasped so loudly she scared a pigeon off the windowsill.
The dog wagged its tail followed by his whole body causing its nylon buckle collar to jingle merrily and proudly plopped Dan on the floor in front of its owner, who looked at me and asked, “Is this yours?”
There was a long pause before I answered. “Not anymore.”
The Escape
We paid, we ran, we didn’t look back. Sharon was still cackling. The dog looked heartbroken. Dan was probably going to write a memoir.
As we rounded the corner, Mark finally burst out laughing. “That… was amazing.”
I stared at him. “Amazing?”
He grinned. “You. A mimosa. A rogue thong. An AI vibrator. That was the best brunch I’ve ever had.”
I groaned. “I can’t show my face in there again.”
“You can,” he said, wrapping an arm around me. “Just maybe wear something without detachable underwear next time.”
I looked at him, narrowed my eyes. “Next time?”
He kissed me on the forehead. “Assuming Dan doesn’t kill me in my sleep.”
Closing Note
And that, dear readers, was Sue’s After-Dark Diaries Episode 8: Morning Glory & the Misplaced Thong. A lesson in brunch etiquette, strategic lingerie placement, and the eternal rivalry between man and machine.
Will there be a next time with Mark? Will Dan accept defeat? Will Sharon tell the entire neighbourhood? (Yes. Yes, she already has.)
Until next time… keep your knickers where you can see them.
Love,
🛍️ After-Dark Diaries: Naughty-but-Necessary Merch
Because sometimes you need more than just good intentions…
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Red Lace Thong – Lightweight, lacy, and perfect for vanishing at brunch.
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Adjustable Bedside Lamp – For when you need mood lighting and a lingerie hook.
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Ceiling Fan – Creates atmosphere… and occasionally catches underwear mid-flight.
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Midi Skirt – Flirty coverage that hides last night’s questionable choices.
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Bed Frame – Sturdy. Or at least, it will be until you’re done with it.
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Egyptian Cotton Bedsheets – Soft enough for skin, strong enough for sin.
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Mimosa Kit – Because breakfast deserves bubbles.
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Crystal Champagne Flute Set – For mimosas, or just pretending you have class.
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Leather Handbag – Fits lipstick, keys, and—if you’re unlucky—Dan.
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Rechargeable AI Vibrator – Discreet, portable, and occasionally the star of the show.
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Nylon Buckle Dog Collar – Sturdy enough for Fido, or whatever you’re into.
💌 Want More Like This? A Mailing List Could Be Coming Soon
Love what you’ve just read? There’s a lot more where that came from.
I’m thinking of launching the official After-Dark Diaries mailing list, where you’ll get exclusive erotic stories, new character encounters, and sultry secrets that won’t be published anywhere else. Is this something you, my lovely readers would be interested in?
📬 Email your comments and ideas now [email protected]
💥 Coming Soon:
Diary of a Misbehaving Body Part – Entry#5 Butt Cheeks – “Crackin’ Under Pressure”
🌶️ After-Dark Diaries: The Bachelor Files Ep 2
🌶️ The Sybian Incident
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