Chapter 12
Chris
Ihadn’t been drunk since I was in my early twenties and now I couldn’t remember why. This was so much fun. I felt great. I had a beautiful woman drinking shots with me, the knee that I’d blown out playing soccer a few years ago wasn’t aching at all, and my mood was great. I felt light and happy.
“I think you girls better get home,” the bartender said, sliding yet another glass of water in front of us. “Do you need me to call you an Uber or something?”
“No thanks, barkeep!” Julia yelled. She got loud when she was drinking. “I live in the hood. You remember me, right?”
“You look familiar,” he said politely.
She leaned across the bar and grabbed his shirt, bringing his face close to hers. “John! You wound me. I thought I was your favorite customer.”
“It’s Jim actually,” he said, disengaging himself with a smirk. “Lemme close out your tab so you can head out.”
“He wants us to leave!” Julia whisper shouted loud enough for the entire bar to hear. “I thought John liked me.”
“I think you’re drunk, Julia.”
She tried to shove my shoulder but missed, almost falling off her stool. “That’s ridiculous! How can I be drunk if you’re still sober?”
“I’m far from sober,” I assured her. “But I think I’m driving too much to drink. I mean, I think I drank too much to drive.”
“You can stay with me,” she said. “We’ll have a sleepover like last night, but without my mother catching us naked.”
The bartender looked slightly embarrassed as he handed me my credit card receipt. I stared at it, watching the numbers swim before passing it back to him.
“Give yourself a twenty percent tip, wouldja?” I asked. “My eyes are blurry.”
“Wait, John needs more!” Julia said, rooting through her bag and tossing a five dollar bill across the bar. “Take that too.”
I cracked up like it was the funniest thing I’d ever seen.
Jim rolled his eyes, taking the money and filling out my charge slip as I’d asked before giving me a copy.
“Have a good night. Be safe getting home.”
I stood up and immediately regretted it as the bar seemed to swim around me. Damn, I really was wasted. How did that happen? Oh yeah, Julia. I lost track of how many rounds of shots she’d ordered for us.
She grabbed my hand and we stumbled out of the bar, walking a bit unsteadily as we made our way back to her house. Thank God she lived close.
“I never drink like this,” Julia announced as we walked home.
“You know you’re a loud drunk?” I teased.
“No I’m not,” she yelled, her only volume level at this point in the evening.
“You are,” I said, throwing my arm around her. “But you’re cute so it makes up for it.”
“You said I was too pink earlier,” she reminded me.
“Yeah, that was a dick move,” I admitted. “I’m sorry. You look fucking hot in that dress with your prim little ballet slippers. It makes me want to do dirty things to you.”
It was true, I’d been thinking about it all night.
“No one’s stopping you!”
“We agreed to one night,” I reminded her.
“That was before we had sex,” she reminded me. “Now we know how good it is, maybe we need to add more nights. Like a friends with benefits thing.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said, keenly aware even in my drunken state that if I spent too much time with her I’d probably fall for her.
Julia made a pouting noise. “But I’m really horny right now.”
A woman walking by with her dog gave us a disapproving look.
“What if we changed our one night stand into a one weekend stand?” I suggested.
“Oh my God! You’re brilliant!” she shouted.
“I know.”
It took about five times between the two of us before we got Julia’s front door unlocked, but once it was open, we practically fell inside. We crashed together, our mouths finding each other as we shared a sloppy kiss.
“You’re so fucking hot,” I gasped as my fingers struggled to unbutton her dress.
Giving up, I grabbed either side and pulled, sending buttons flying everywhere.
“Holy fuck,” she breathed. “Lemme try.”
She pulled on the sides of my shirt a few times before realizing that it wasn’t buttoned and dragging it off my shoulders instead. I pulled on the hem of my tank top, taking it off while Julia reached around me to unclasp my bra.
Backing me against the door, she lowered her head and sucked as much of my breast into her mouth as she could, drawing on it hard enough that I felt it everywhere. I tunneled my fingers in her hair, holding her head closer as she teased my breast.
When I couldn’t take it anymore I pushed her off, then spun her around so that she was the one pressed against the door.
Dropping to my knees, I slid her panties down to her ankles.
She kicked them off one foot, but they stayed tangled on the other.
She widened her stance and I slid my fingers up and down her labia a couple of times before spreading her lower lips wide.
“Such a pretty pussy,” I said reverently.
Then I was licking her, exploring her folds with my tongue as Julia whined above me. When I looked up she was moving her head back and forth on the surface of the door, her eyes squeezed closed as she focused on what was happening down below her waist.
She was already dripping wet, and it didn’t take long before she was starting to shake, her orgasm close.
I speared my tongue inside her body, and Julia rolled her hips towards me, helping me get as deep as I could.
I licked inside her channel a few times before homing in on her clit with my fingers.
I circled and pressed and squeezed and tapped until she finally lost control, flooding my tongue with her release as she screamed my name.
As soon as I moved back she slid down the door, her knees giving out. Resting her chin on her knees, she gave me a reverent look.
“Holy fuck, you’re so good at that. How are you so good at that?”
I shrugged. “It’s a gift,” I joked.
What I didn’t tell her was that for the first time in my life, I cared more about someone else’s pleasure than I did about my own. It was way too scary of a thought for someone as drunk as I currently was. Speaking of which…
“We should probably take some ibuprofen or something,” I suggested. “I haven’t been this drunk in years, and I have a bad feeling that we’re both going to feel like shit in the morning.”
We awkwardly made our way back to standing, Julia still wearing her open dress and me topless but completely dressed from the waist down. She looked between us and started laughing.
“Oh my God, you’re like that bear. The one who steals the honey!”
I frowned. “You mean Yogi Bear?”
“No, Yogi is the one who steals the pick… the pick… the pick-a-nick baskets,” she stuttered, wandering towards the kitchen, presumably in search of ibuprofen. “I’m talking about the other bear, the one who doesn’t wear pants. He’s friends with that depressed donkey and the little pig.”
“What pig?” I asked in confusion.
“The one who helps him when he gets stuck stealing honey.”
Julia reached into a cabinet, bringing out a giant bottle of ibuprofen and shoving it in my direction. I went to the refrigerator, returning with a bottle of water for each of us before I realized what she was talking about.
“Are you talking about Winnie the Pooh?” I asked, laughing hysterically.
“Yes!” She drilled her finger into my chest, just below my collar bones. “He doesn’t wear pants!”
“I’m wearing pants,” I reminded her.
She gave me a wink, which made her lose her balance and almost fall over. I started laughing again. God, she was funny. And pretty too.
“Not for long, baby. Come to my bedroom. I’m going to make you come.”
We were both fast asleep five minutes later.
I woke up hours later, my mouth tasting like something at the bottom of a trash can. With a groan, I stumbled into the bathroom. I was still wearing my pants, but somewhere along the way I’d lost my boots. I had no idea where my shirt and bra had ended up.
As soon as I got to the bathroom the nausea hit. I dropped to my knees, puking out all the alcohol and possibly some things I ate last week. When I was done, I stumbled to the sink, washing my face and after a moment’s hesitation, using Julia’s toothbrush to clean the foulness out of my mouth.
Julia staggered in, totally naked, eyes half closed and dropped onto the toilet to pee. She reached for the toilet paper and then screamed as she realized I was in the bathroom.
“Hey! I’m trying to pee in here! You’re invading my privacy.”
“I was here first,” I said, rinsing off her toothbrush.
“Wait, are you using my toothbrush?”
I winced at her high pitched question. Damn she was loud and screechy. How had I never noticed that before?
“I didn’t think you’d mind, not with the taste of your cum still in my mouth.”
“You’re disgusting,” she grumbled as she pushed to her feet. “I don’t know how I ever slept with you.”
She bumped me with her hip, pushing her way in front of me to the sink so she could wash her hands and face, then grabbed her toothbrush out of my hand. She rinsed it for approximately five hours before brushing her teeth, watching me in the mirror the entire time.
“It’s still the weekend,” I said, moving close behind her and pressing my boobs against her bare back.
She spit out her toothpaste and gave me a frothy smile. “That it is.”
“What do you say we make breakfast and then go back to bed?”
“I say that’s a great idea.”