I moved away from my beloved toxic bigger city to calm the fuck down a little bit. Party girl be party girl though and hop on that ferry, off to the weekend shenanigans. Fashion party, that reliable big sister best friend, here we are at who? I forget. Someone’s birthday  party at some club where everybody is important, because that is how the city runs. If everybody is important, who isn’t then? I love dancing in clubs because of the loud music, louder than is ever civilized within one’s own home. I love the energy of the people. Most of the time I refuse drinks, even water, from strangers. Stranger danger 101.

Unless, that shadow side comes out. She is like, oh no no no, get the drinks. Get the random person…persons. Get that flailing and off you go. I think I fell four times slipping in alcohol that night, five inch high heels can be a long way down when you are used to being closer to the ground without such height. The bounce factor when you are drunk is impressive how resilient you seem.

Don’t bother telling your friends where you go. Just whisk off with these guys to some modern expensive apartment. Seven guys and one girl here? That seems logical. They continue to drink and I continue to pursue. The guy I was thirsting over was married, I think, I remember seeing a ring and yelling at him (I yell a lot when drunk, like a lot), and he gave evasive answers or no answers. I’ve noticed many best friend dynamics over the years, and it is interesting to me. This guy’s best friend had a foot fetish which I was unaware of until he came on my foot.

My pursuit of having sex with the I think he was married guy, did not happen. Instead, somehow the three of us ended up in a twin sized bed of the best friend in I think a guest room. There, they are both naked enough, and I am mostly naked. Here, I am making out with whom I am pursuing, and the best friend is watching. I end up giving a hand job to my pursuit, which was a cry of disappointment from my goal of sex. They were giggling and having the kind of intimacy over this situation that made me believe they do this often and have a routine. That the bond is with each other rather than the random girl of the night. I remember earlier in the night the best friend talking to me about a girl from Maxim magazine he knew while I sat on the lap of the pursuit and listened intently. I don’t remember if my pursuit came, but I imagine he would have. All I remember is it was so early in the morning, here we are, they are lying down and I am sitting up facing towards them, in-between. Ever so gently, the best friend takes my foot and just begins holding my foot while using his other hand to masturbate himself. Then he came. He came on my foot.

That was the first time someone had cum on my foot. I cleaned up, I left, with all the polite goodbyes. Never to see or speak to any of them again.

Writing all of this now, I wouldn’t be surprised if they have fucked each other to be honest.