Self-reflections

"I'll be right out, Trinh!" sang Miranda in reply to her friend's impatient question.

"Ok, listen Pete," she hissed into his ear. "I don't know what you're doing, but keep it up. Pull your pants back up and I'll call you tomorrow."

"Uh, are we uh," he tried stammering out one of a million questions running through his head as he re-did his belt, but she just whirled on her heels and met up with her friend, right as a petite little Vietnamese hottie with a pixie cut popped her head in the door. Trinh, presumably. "What's that smell?" she asked in a chirpy, cute voice.

"Don't worry about it T, let's go!" And just like that, the two Asian coeds left him alone in the lab, and Peter Wang's first sexual experience was over. His mind was going a mile a minute. What the hell just happened? What was that tingling? Did my cock actually...get bigger? Fuck that was hot. God, Miranda is so beautiful, I think I'm in love. He knew he'd be mentally replaying the image of her slurping down his thick white spunk off her hand for the rest of his life.

The question that he kept coming back to, though: I wonder if I could get her to do it again?

Coming to his senses, he quickly packed up and headed back to his dorm room. Unlocking the door, he saw that his roommate, a fellow freshman and wannabe fratboy, was out -- probably trying to impress older jocks by drinking too much shitty beer.

Still replaying the events of the night in his head, he suddenly realized how drained he was. He opened the mini-fridge and drank one of his roommate's Gatorades, then passed out for the night.

Meanwhile, at the party, Miranda Kim wasn't having as much fun as she thought she would. Normally, she lived to party. She was smart, and studied enough to keep her grades up, but when the weekend came, she was all about dressing up, getting loose with her friends, and dancing with boys to make them want her. She wasn't exactly a slut, but if a boy was hot enough and not an asshole, she'd hook up with them.

Now, though, the house party just seemed...annoying and juvenile. It was so crowded and loud, she couldn't hear her own thoughts, much less interact with any of her friends. She grabbed a cranberry vodka in a red cup but her body just seemed to not want to drink.

And, while she was trying not to think about it too much, she was wondering -- what the hell came over me back there with that frosh? A smaller, quieter part of her was wondering -- I wonder if I should do it again.

After about an hour of trying to have fun but failing, and rebuffing a steady stream of increasingly drunk, immature college guys looking to score, she signaled to her friends that she was calling it an early night. Most of them just nodded, then went back to their drinking games, but Trinh frowned a little bit, and tilted her head in a question -- you ok?

Miranda smiled lopsidedly and shrugged back -- yeah, I'm good, just not feelin' it.

The cute little Vietnamese girl, Miranda's best friend, smiled back and gave a quick wave. Alright, talk to you tomorrow!

Walking back through the quad in the cool night air, Miranda looked up at the night sky. Weird, her slight nearsightedness didn't seem to be affecting her as much right now. Maybe because she didn't have much to drink.

Back in her off-campus apartment she shared with Trinh, Miranda quickly changed out of her party clothes, took off her makeup, and hopped into the shower. She loved taking a hot shower to unwind at the end of the night -- it was where she did her best thinking.