My Drunken Stupor part 2

My Drunken Stupor part 2



It was almost surreal attending to my regular activities after such a fascinating experience. I walked to class smiling at people I've never noticed before. I could barely hear my professors over the soundtrack of The Shins resounding in my skull. I sat and bobbed my head in sync with the music and I must have looked absolutely ridiculous, but I didn't care. Who isn't super giddy after getting some when it's been a while, or a year or so... but who's counting? I had nothing to worry about anymore; I was completely infatuated with a woman who was actually worth it.

The next few days were spent walking around campus, arm in arm, not giving a fuck what people thought. If they stared we gave them something to look at. She was pleased with all of the attention for a change, and loved showing off for our spectators almost as much as I did. We spent the evenings in her single listening to indie music and I eventually got her to listen to a few of my awful playlists. I loved how open she was to everything. We talked for hours about how much she hated men and their "macho madness" as she called it. I talked about my ex-boyfriend who had raped me and how I'd never been able to enjoy myself with a man since.

They're all pricks, she sang, and that is why we prefer the pussies. I laughed aloud. She was so shocking at times, and I enjoyed that she was poetically beautiful; my Emily Dickinson of sorts. I wrote her love notes and stuck them in her text books. Little poems about her ass and how badly I wanted to be kissing her, there were a few fun ones too. Ones that read, Meet me in the bathroom across the hall at 2:40. It was convenient knowing her schedule and being able to surprise her for a change. She'd gracefully exit the classroom and nonchalantly head to the bathroom. It was best when she was wearing a skirt because I would lift her onto the sink counter and go at her while we made out. After we realized we were being too loud, though the risk always made us want to continue, I would send her back with her hair a wild mess and I would smile because everyone would know that those hickeys were from me.

Tuesday night I took her out for the first time. It wasn't much of a date, but half off appetizers at Applebee’s was my favorite late night special. I got the boneless Buffalo wings, classic, with an extra side of sauce and she got the chicken quesadillas with extra sour cream. She preferred the blue cheese too and I couldn't imagine a better combination of thick sauces and spicy chicken. If I hadn't realized it by this point, I knew then that Samantha Carter completed me in every way possible. She didn't mind my cheap taste and awkward silences. Just like I didn't mind the distant look in her eyes as I talked to her about New England clam chowder and whether I thought I could handle a Stat class. Boring as I was she didn't seem disappointed, and for a date that only cost me $12.00 I wouldn't have had it any other way.

The next two nights were spent on my second story porch smoking hookah while everyone else was asleep. We watched stupid shit on YouTube and sang along to crappy pop songs. We talked for hours before we realized it was dawn and the sun was peeking, its neon radiance at the horizon. I swear, in those two nights we found out everything about each other. She knew all about my family, my hobbies, my wasted potential, my past relationships and my awkward habits. I knew about her rich father and cokehead mom. About her brother who died in a car accident two years ago and that the smell of lemons makes her want to vomit. I learned what made her cry, what made her want to impale someone and where she was ticklish. Covered by my blanket, hand in hand, I grew completely connected to her. She was everything I never knew I loved.

Then came the weekend, Friday night I curled her hair and she was gorgeous. I can't explain how amazing someone who never does anything to fix herself up looks when they dress up. To be blunt, she was fucking hot. We almost didn't make it out of her dorm room, but luckily we had control enough over our sexual desires to calm ourselves for a few hours. We went to a mixer at Manley and partied for the first time together. The added drunk buzz drove me wild. We grinded so close no one even bothered to intervene. It was a mesh of thighs against thighs, breasts upon breasts. I rubbed my leg on her clit while I grabbed her ass and scratched the back of her neck. I was so horny, that we started full on making out in the middle of the dance floor. It was the greatest feeling of vibrations: musical, physical, mental.

Afterwards, we went home and had the most sensuous experience of my life. We stripped down and showered together. She lathered me with soap and my fingers prickled her scalp as I massaged in shampoo. There were suds all around us and it was almost as if we were two best friends enjoying a playful bubble bath. Except for when I went down on her for a good twenty minutes.

Then we wandered back to her room and got under the covers, each of us completely naked. I loved staring at the angles of her body, they were so raw, but incredibly sexy. That night we didn't go crazy though, we actually just cuddled and kissed and held each other. It was terribly romantic. She felt so perfect in my arms, as if she had been shaped for me to hold. She smelt of coconut shampoo and melon deodorant. It smelt like familiarity. It smelt like my first love.

I won't get into much detail to avoid being redundant, but that really was the greatest night of my life thus far. I recollect waking up at some forbidden hour and just looking over and seeing her. She was so beautiful in the moons glow and I just stared. I kissed her collar bone and gently rubbed her breasts. I loved feeling every part of her. Each section was something tragically serene and faultless. When I awoke the next morning, perhaps she was still a little drunk, or perhaps she was still caught up in her dreams, but she very clearly whispered that she loved me. And I whispered it back. And even now, a good half a day later, I do not regret it. I almost think I meant it.

Oh shit, it's almost eight I've got to go pick up Samantha we're heading to the movies. We're going to select the most ridiculous sounding title and see how that goes. I know you're just a hamster and all, but you're a great listener Pokey. Don't try to escape and shit everywhere while I'm gone. I'll be home in a couple hours.


By nutbuster