bad girls do it well

The air was palpable on my skin. Autumn had been quickly pushed away as the winter wind pressed forward with the season. My legs were bare between my excessively ripped up, sexy, skinny jeans and they felt vulnerable as flurries of cold hit them. I was scampering as quickly as my Chucks would let me. After a long week, I was thankful not to be wearing heels tonight. As I reached the entrance, the large yellow building seemed rampant and exciting. The loud, heavy door swung open before I even had a chance to touch it. A familiar face greeted me drunkenly with a smile.

She threw her arms around me and exaggeratedly announced how “happy she was that I had fiiiiiinally made it”. As she grabbed my arm, I was pulled around back. The place smelled stale, most likely from the dozens of cigarettes being sucked down with cheap beer, or the obvious blunts everyone was passing around to subdue their already hazy minds. I didn’t mind it, though… actually, I welcomed it. As we reached what you would call a kitchen, massive amounts of beer were crammed tightly into the fridge. My friend giggled and boasted when she showed the bathtub filled with more cheap beer and ice. As her drunken weight was using me to remain upright, I grabbed two beer cans from the bathtub, shoved one in my purse - cracked open the other one, and then we stepped out to rejoin the party…

You see, this wasn’t a regular party. Well, it was – the difference between a normal “party” and this party was that, this party was full of lesbians.

Sound cliché? No, not everyone was a “lesbian”… there were some gay guys, some bisexual girls, and one or two straight girls too. And no, every lesbian at the party wasn’t in heels and a mini skirt with perfectly applied makeup and salon styled hair. My friend owned the place, and she and her girlfriend were throwing a huge bash for, yet again: another insignificant “occasion”. Each party of theirs usually consisted of a theme, and none of the attendees held back enthusiasm. I only slightly remember that this specific party’s theme was something along the lines of a white trash party, hence why I was wearing a pair of shredded jeans that were practically non-existent. Some of the things people wore at these parties were quite creative. Tonight though, I didn’t plan on coming; so my outfit prep time was cut short. I was exhausted and before I decided to go, I told myself I would only have a few beers, then leave. I had been to many of their parties before… they are always wild, and always last all night long. 

By this time, I basically knew everyone who would be in attendance… the ones who mattered anyways. There were always a plethora of randoms who would come and go throughout the night… but our “group” – were the ringleaders. As I drank, the cheap beer was going down better than I thought. The loud music got me in the mood to let loose and the drinks kept flowing. The girls had beer pong and tippy cup set up… which quickly had me feeling the effects of the alcohol. My game plan to leave early was – as expected – not going to happen.

It must have been close to 4am or so, because the place had emptied some… I recognized most of the people staggered about the pad. I stumbled along, hoping to find my hippie friend blazing in a quiet room upstairs…

Of course I found her… in a guest bedroom, out of sight and away from the bass of the booming stereo. There were 3 other girls in the room, too. One was her girlfriend, a pretty girl with curly hair whom I knew well. There was also a skinny blonde, who looked like a bitch. To me she always seemed stuck up, arrogant. The other was a tough looking girl with her hair pulled back. She was comfortable in her skin, and had great chronic. She could get you anything you needed. I had met the two a few times, but didn’t know them that well.

The blonde was hammered, so I was glad when she left the room. The ceiling fan was on, and you could hear the music at just the right muted volume. The blunt was out now, and we were working on the last few drags of our squares before we went downstairs to revel in the lingering, sexy hours of the night. I had been sitting on the edge of the bed when my friend and her girlfriend got up and walked out the door. I looked over at the tough, laid back lesbian and she asked me if I wanted to blaze again.

“Sure.”

By this time I was drunk, stoned, and pretty much done partying. I was glad to sit in the quiet room and get to know her. I wanted to be cool with her. I watched her silently as she broke up the weed on the back of a magazine. Her hands were steady and sure. Her eyes remained on her task with raw focus and commitment. When she was done wrapping, her plump lips parted slightly and I watched the round tip of her wet tongue follow the open edge of the swisher.

Her eyes met mine. I noticed her big brown eyes and thick, long eyelashes with that quick, simple gaze – and was glad when she nonchalantly averted it and started telling me a story. I faked listening and kept staring at her mouth. I don’t know if it was the cheap beer, the theme of the party, or if my curiosity’s time for her had simply run out, but I literally acquired an attraction for her in seconds. Randomly, I wondered what her nipples looked like. She became more and more beautiful with each passing smile.

The thing about women is that we were created to be beautiful. Our form has always been the most desirable. How can you resist natures design?

I could tell as conversation progressed that she was attracted to me. It wasn’t difficult. She made it obvious, and I played back. While we were smoking, I kept watching her mouth. I felt her begging me to kiss her. It didn’t seem like long after that, we ended up in bed with the lights off and the door locked...

To be continued...