I’m not making out with Richard. Gimme that booze!

You grab the bottle of gin from Rachel and swig straight from the bottle. Rachel grins naughtily, saying, “Alright. Looks like I might get some action out of you after all.” You all laugh at that, however, due to the fact that you are CHUGGING gin, the day (and night) very quickly spirals into a complete blur.

You remember talking for a little, but then it was quiet for a long time, while you were just sitting on the couch, drunk out of your mind, and Rachel made out with Richard. You say something to them at one point, (at least you think you do) but they don’t respond. You end up in another room somehow… the den? You’re laid out in the floor in the corner on something soft… a bean bag chair? Richard and Rachel are fucking on the other side of the room. He lays on his back while she bounces on his cock, her tits going up and down hypnotically. You know you should be aroused, but you’re too nauseous and disoriented. Rachel leaves at some point. You think you maybe talk to Richard in some room somewhere… then he’s helping you change, pulling your shirt over your head, pulling your jeans off of you, slipping something else over your head and helping your arms through the arm holes. At some point, as he’s practically dragging you down a hallway, you realize it’s a cheerleader outfit. In the bedroom, Richard plops you down on the big comfy bed. It feels nice. You want to sleep, but then you’re on your hands and knees with something slippery being **** into your bottom. You can barely hold yourself up. Richard is gripping your hips as he slides in and out of you. Your ass hurts, but in your state, you can barely understand what’s going on, let alone do anything about it. You fall forward. Your face smashes into the mattress over and over. You can only close your eyes and grunt into the mattress as Richard’s cock probes your ass and his balls slap against your bottom.

You wake up. It’s morning. Your head hurts and your bottom hurts. Everything is still a little blurry, but you gradually process your surroundings. The ceiling fan in the spacious bedroom spins slowly. Laying in a big, comfy king-sized bed, you’re wearing Richard’s sister’s cheerleader outfit and no underwear. Beside you, Richard is naked and asleep on his stomach. You reek of semen. Under your butt, there is a large, wet stain on the sheet. You were so drunk that you let Richard dress you as a cheerleader and fuck you… and judging from the size of the huge cum stain under your naked butt, he fucked you multiple times. You feel nauseous. You stumble to the adjacent bathroom, feeling something wet trickling from your bottom and down your inner thighs. After throwing up in the toilet, you pee sitting down, wash your hands and see yourself in the mirror. Your hair is stiff, and there are white crusty splotches all over your face, showing that Richard didn’t just cum in your asshole. How did that happen? You stumble to the bed and go back to sleep.

The other guys show up at the cabin for the poker game that afternoon. You hear their game in the other room, but you stay in the bedroom, far too hungover and cum-covered to leave the bed. After a while, the hear all the other guys leave, and Richard comes in to check on you. He sits on the bed beside you, his back against the headboard, and asks you a few questions. After making sure that you’re okay, he pulls out his cock and tells you to suck it. In your current condition, after Richard has apparently quite thoroughly (and repeatedly) made you his bitch, you don’t argue. You roll over onto your stomach and take his dick in your mouth, sucking obediently as you bob your head in his lap. You give him a blowjob for a few minutes before his dick twitches and his load fills your mouth. You swallow it, throw it up a few minutes later, and go back to sleep. Richard wakes you up a few more times that day, either to ask you if you are okay, or to tell you to get on all fours so he can fuck you up the ass again. That night, after a shower and changing back into your own (line-dried) clothes, he drives you home. At his request, you give him another blowjob on the ride over. After that weekend, your friendship is never quite the same. You talk and hang out like you did before, but from then on, every once in a while, when you’re alone, Richard will spontaneously tell you to give him blowjob, or to bend over and drop your pants. And for reasons you don’t quite understand, you always do it.

END