You talk scheduling & head back inside

“Wow,” Tatiana repeats, still looking out across the grass of the backyard again.

For Tatiana, that was not what she expected of you. Though the different boyfriends and flings she had over the years, she had seen some serious cumshots, taken a few on her face even too. But nothing like that. Those dozen ropes had sailed through the air and out into the darkness, what five, six, seven feet away? Thick ropes too, maybe even thick enough to probably show up on camera mid-flight.

“What?” you ask her, not sure what she or you are supposed to be looking at, your gut and head still protesting from all the **** you’ve drank.

“Well,” she sighs again, very casually wiping her precum coated hands off on your pants, “The dirty talk still needs work, but I’ll give you extra bonus points for range and volume.”

You smirk, thanking Vernius for that gift.

“So, are you free Tuesday or Thursday to continue your casting?” Tatiana asks, fixing her disheveled clothes and pulling the back of her skirt out of her panties where you shoved it.

“I can do either,” you state, “how about Tuesday?”

“Sure,” Tatiana nods. “Meet at my place at four?”

“Yeah, I can be there,” you say, planning on milking Alice of all the goodwill that you can on account of your accident in the archives to guarantee a chance at laying Tatiana.

“Oh and what’s your number?” she asks, pulling her phone out.

You pull out your phone and share your contact information with Tatiana. A moment later there’s a little ‘ding’ as a message arrives on your phone from a new number.

TATIANA: hey this is tatiana :)

“Good,” she nods again, “my secretary will be in touch with you soon.”

“Sure,” you snort.

“Now let’s go inside, I’m freezing,” Tatiana huffs, before grabbing you by the hand and slowly leading you still very much drunk ass back around the corner of the house. The couple that had been making out is gone it would seem, obviously spooked after getting caught watching you and Tatiana’s tryst.

You and Tatiana wander up to and past the smokers still gathered around on the back porch.

“Get lucky?” one smiles with yellow teeth as you pass them by, but you don’t have time to answer before you are pulled back into the warmth and sound of the frat house.

The music is still pounding, the college students still dancing and grinding on each other, and different little conversation circles populate the rooms. The game of beer pong has degenerated into a fully drunken game of Flip Cup, the ping pong ball long ago lost to the aether.

You feel a tap on your arm and Tatiana motions for you to get closer. You lean into her so that she can reach your ear.

“Just for your info,” she yells in your ear over the pumping bass of the music, “I’m gonna tell Louise that I made out with you for kicks out back and then you started puking, and that’s why we were out there for so long. Are you cool with that?”

You motion to her to turn her head to respond. “Sure,” you shout into her ear, smelling her hair in the process, “seems a pretty foolproof cover story.”

She motions you to listen to her again. “Great, you should head upstairs and maybe pretend that you’re getting cleaned up in the bathroom or something while I go tell her and then dip, kay?”

You flash her a thumbs up and head out into the party headed for the stairs to the upstairs.

Going up the stairs, it turns out, was a bad move. You are utterly gassed by the time you get to the top of them after nearly tripping on a couple getting handsy sitting in the dark halfway up them, almost slipping on spilled beer, and nearly getting knocked out by some frat boys running down the stairs the other direction hooping and hollering while waving around what certainly looked like a bra like a battle flag.

But eventually you soldier into the upstairs bathroom, taking the opportunity to relieve yourself with a heavy sigh, suddenly aware of just how drunk you feel. The bathroom is already a mess, with cups all over the place on the vanity, back of the toilet, and floor. The bathroom smells of cigarettes, bathroom cleaner, and rubbing ****.

A quarter of the way through relieving yourself, you hear the bathroom door open, somebody says “oh shit, I’m sorry,” and closes it again before you can even turn to look at them.

Three quarters of the way through, you hear the shower curtain rustle, and can see with your third eye somebody’s head sticking out from behind it.

“Excuse me, could you try and keep it down,” they say and you struggle to turn your head to see them properly without pissing all over the floor.

“Just give me a minute,” you sigh exasperatedly, starting to get tired of being interrupted. You feel their gaze bore into the back of your head as you finally finish up, packing your cock back into your pants, and scooting over to the sink.

“Should I stop until they leave?” you hear a second voice say.

“Nah, just keep going, there, ~ahh~ yeah that’s it,” the first voice replies.

As you start to wash your hands, you look up in the mirror, and recoil.

“Oh shit, hey John,” Andrew says, meeting your gaze with a grin through the mirror, his head sticking out from behind the shower curtain.

“Oh hey man,” you reply, still washing your hands.

“How are you enjoying the party so far?” he asks. Your mind flashes back to the handy that Tatiana gave you, the promise of pussy, and you blow out a breath. “Oh? You sly dog, what have you been getting up to?” Andrew adds, with a chuckle.

“Well,” you chuckle, “I, uh, made out with Tatiana―”

“Score,” Andrew interjects.

“But I also puked my guts out right after,” you add. “So, mixed bag so far. What about you?”

“Well,” he says, momentarily looking down at whatever is happening behind the shower curtain before meeting your gaze again and giving you a big olde grin that screams ‘I’m getting action’ in big neon lights. “I’m doing quite alright,” he adds.

“Score,” you chuckle, glancing down at the shower curtain as you finish washing.

“You catch on fast brother,” Andrew chuckles, “there’s some disposable toothbrushes in the medicine cabinet behind the mirror you can use, no friend of mine is gonna spend a party with puke breath.” You open the mirror and pick out a disposable toothbrush from between an open box of condoms and a used up tube of toothpaste, rip open the protective plastic, and pop it into your mouth, tasting mint.

“So how far did you get with Tatiana?” Andrew asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“Oh,” you shrug, toothbrush in your mouth, “not too far, we just made out and I got to feel her up, I dunno. I don’t think she was really into me.” You sigh, completing the ruse.

"Eh, not bad for a first go," Andrew chuckles and then grunts.

You shrug your response.

“The night is still hardly over, young buck,” Andrew says, nodding sagely, "if you're spoiling for more action, I'm sure you can get some."

“What time is it?” you ask then spit out the toothpaste into the sink and rinse out your mouth. You hear the rubber of the shower curtain rustle for a moment, and you can see with your third eye Andrew fumbling for something out of sight.

“Just a hair before midnight,” he replies, flashing you his phone lock screen: a picture of him and Victoria at the beach with 11:58 superimposed over it.

“Thanks,” you say, popping open the bathroom garbage can with your foot and dropping the disposable toothbrush into it. You barely catch the sight of at least three or four used condoms deposited in there.

You let out a whistle.

“Huh?” Andrew asks.

“Folks are getting busy tonight,” you chuckle and give Andrew a look.

He shrugs and shoots you a big dumb grin, as if to say, ‘I know.’

You’re then at the bathroom door, and your midway through closing the door behind you when Andrew pipes up again over the roar of the music downstairs, “You know, if you got nothing else to do, see if you can’t find Victoria,” you feel your eyes bug out, snapping to the wiggling shower curtain. “She should still be around, and I’m sure she’ll take care of you, oh and make sure to tell that I said that I love her!”

“Can do,” you offer a shocked smile before gingerly closing the door. You lean back against the door, somehow feeling more drunk than before you went to the bathroom and run a hand back through your hair for a long moment.

“Well that’s different,” you mutter, then lift the cup of beer that has appeared in your hand to your lips, finishing it off, and then depositing it on a tall cardboard box doubling as a hall table. You stand there, piss drunk, and consider your options of what to do next: follow Andrew’s advice and look for Victoria, go find Louise, try out your luck with a rando, or leave the party entirely either to trawl Greek Row or head home for the night.

OOC: remember to comment which path you want to see me work first!