Your phone gets a new message

Your phone gets a new message. You’re kind of shocked how late it is when Marcy texts you. It’s a quarter to nine and the sun went down long ago. You open your phone.

MARCY: Hey John

MARCY: You ready to party?

YOU: Yeah

MARCY: Just let me know when you get outside

Marcy sends you the address and you start walking in the chilly evening air. You’re wearing some casual party clothes, and stuff a condom in your back pocket on your way out the door just in case you get lucky. Your directions take you through campus, out into town, and onto Greek Row. The street which, for whatever reason, has all of Poly State’s fraternities and sororities line up on either side. You hear the party before you see it, a regular residential house lit up from the inside in changing colors and thumping away with club music. Outside are a smattering of college students chatting, smoking, or drinking. You see a pair of particularly mean looking guys at the door with frat shirts on, turning somebody away. You pull out your phone and text Marcy.

YOU: I’m outside

A long while later Marcy stumbles out of the door, between the two bouncers. She waves at you.

“John!” She shouts, wobbling on tall heels down the steps.

“Wow,” is just about the only thing that you manage to say when you see Marcy. Her hair is curled, her makeup is done up, and she’s wearing what you can only describe as a crimson red party dress. It’s short and skin tight, hugging her figure all the way down. Her bust bounces noticeably with every step she takes. “Nice dress.” You say.

“Thanks.” Marcy giggles. “Come on.” She adds, grabbing your hand and tugging you up towards the door.

“You a brother?” One of the big guys asks, putting his hand on your chest. You open your mouth to answer.

“Yeah, he’s with me.” Marcy pips up, tugging you past the door and into the party. You sense there is somebody behind you.

“Hey! Brothers only!” The big guy shouts at some hanger-ons, clotheslining them as they try to follow you in. But you’re already inside, overtaken by the noise and the smell and the tenseness of the party. The music is loud, pounding even. There’s the definite smell of weed in the air, alongside sweat and ****. Marcy clings on, pulling you through the seething mass of college students under the blacklights. Eventually, you make it to the kitchen, where things are quieter. You see that there’s a game of beer pong going in the backyard, some people gathered around a firepit, and a girl heaving into a planter already.

“Marcy! John!” You hear Jessica shout over the music. She’s sitting on the kitchen counter, red cup in hand. She is wearing a clubbing dress, with a cleavage that goes nearly down to her midriff that shows off just how busty she really is. You fight your natural instinct to stare though. There’s another big and mean looking guy with her arm around her, blonde hair cut flat, and a cleft chin sharp enough to be classified as a deadly weapon.

“Jessica!” Marcy replies, letting go of you and giving Jessica a little side hug.

“Hey.” You reply.

“How are you guys enjoying the party?” Jessica asks over the dull roar.

“It’s great!” Marcy laughs, a red cup appearing in her hand.

“Oooh!” Jessica giggles, eyeing the strawberry vodka in your hand that she had you buy. “Gimme.” She says, basically grabbing it out of your hand. The guy shifts to hold her a little tighter around the shoulder.

“Nice to meet you, I’m John.” You say to the guy, going to shake his hand.

“Brad.” Brad answers, firmly shaking your hand and meeting your eye contact, still gripping Jessica around the shoulder. “Hey pledge, get a drink for my man John here!” He calls to some young guy over by the drinks table. Before you know it, the same guy, who looks absolutely miserable, comes over and gives you a drink in a red solo cup.

“Thanks.” You say to the guy. He just walks away without saying a word. You take a sip, and find it’s some really really strong punch.

“It’s good, right?” Jessica states, finishing off her cup.

“Oh my God yes, I’m gonna get me some more.” Marcy states, wobbling away towards the drinks table.

“Hey Brad,” Jessica shouts over the din in his ear, raising up the bottle of strawberry vodka, “can you get me some salt for this?”

“Sure babe.” Brad states, getting off the counter and striding towards the garage. For a moment you are left alone with Jessica.

“Boyfriend?” You ask, looking off towards where Brad went.

“Oh, he wishes!” She snorts, pouring the vodka straight into her cup. “Nah, Brad’s just a tool.”

“Wow!” You have to laugh.

“I’m kinda a bitch.” Jessica laughs back. “Just warning you.” She pours what you have to gauge is a triple shot into her cup and then motions you over. She takes your cup and pours about the same into it. “Cheers.” She says.

“Cheers.” You answer, and she knocks the whole thing back in one go, while you are more than content to just take a couple big gulps and call it good. Jessica gives you a look. “Not gonna finish it?” She scoffs.

“I’m good.” You say, smiling sheepishly, looking at the still very full cup.

“Bro, chug it!” Some random guy shouts from behind you in the human mass of the party.

“Yeah, chug it!” Jessica instigates, cracking a sinful grin. You, foolishly, answer their challenge, and finish off the extra extra strong cup of punch and three shots of vodka, which did not taste good together, and flip the cup upside down to show them.

“Woooo! Not a drop!” The guy shouts and the crowd answers in rambunctious shouts of approval.

“Good job, I’ll make you into a party animal yet.” Jessica chuckles, fanning herself. “Hey It’s hot in here.” You follow her fanning hand, and spy sweat on her heaving chest, dripping down her cleavage to her stomach. You think to yourself how many other things you would like to see dripping down between those tits at this moment. You lick your lips involuntarily.

“Yeah.” You reply, not breaking eye contact with her tits and very tipsy all of a sudden.

“It’s not polite to stare, John.” Jessica scoffs. Your eyes snap back to hers. They are sultry, her face rosy and maybe even a little bit flustered. “I’m guessing you aren’t a big drinker? Because you’re kinda acting like it.”

“Yeah I don’t usually drink this much,” you chuckle, feeling your stomach ache as the booze hits it all at once. Jessica uncrosses and recrosses her legs in front of you. You feel your eyes drawn to her smooth legs, part of your mind infinitely more curious whether they go all the way up then about getting caught staring. You look back to her face, and Jessica is giving you an incredibly smug look.

“I’m going outside,” Jessica states, cracking a grin at you, “don’t tell Brad where I went.” She drops off the counter and struts away from you, hips cocking to each side as she walks away.