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Introduction:

Let's just say this is a series of fucked up events.
Well, here’s an attempt to please the readers. I’ve tried my best to follow what you’ve said in the comments, so here’s a shot. It’s long, forgive me. And from what it looks like, my quotation marks aren’t showing up, so I apologize. That’s not me doing that. And I’m done with all of the other stories. If you guys really want another Christmas at the Shore installment, I may start those again, but it looks like im gonna stick with this series for a while. Of course, critique and give me some ideas to write on, whether it’s this story or a different project you want my working on. There's less sex and more story per request. Here it is:

- - -

Dave and I sat in the meeting room, sharing notes for our classes. We were kinda just messing around. It was a Friday, so we had no meeting and we didn’t feel like doing anything. The society thing was great, I had a full week of it this week and by now, I had no worries in the world. Heather and I didn’t hang out because of her swimming meet and Dave had his own stuff to worry about. He was being less of a best friend lately and it sorta ticked me off. I tried my best to start shit up with him again and we were getting somewhere.

“You going to the upperclassmen dance?” I asked.
“Yeah man, you trying to pre-game?” Dave replied.
“Nah, I’m taking no risks. Post-game definitely. I can’t wait three weeks though. It’s gonna be nuts. What are you doing tonight?”

“Going to the game, but nothing later.”
“Wanna come to my parents’ party? Anniversary. We pulled out the tent, so most of the people are outside. We get the basement. You can stay the night, no problem.”

“All right man.”

We did our handshake, and Heather walks in with two girls from my calculus class. The girl on the left was Carrie, a short chick with brown hair, perky tits and a great body altogether, an ass not to complain about. The other girl was Amanda, taller, blonde with a great, great figure. She was as tall as Heather, and tanner than the others. I would do any of these girls in a heartbeat.

“Hey Tom!” said Heather.

Heather sat down next to me and pecked me on the lips. We had this weird relationship. Ever since I was in the club, we’ve been hanging out a lot together, and we were going out, if anything. We hadn’t made it school-publicly known. The club, however, knew; they weren’t about to spill the beans.

“My parents are having their anniversary party tonight. Wanna come over?”
“They invited my parents, I have to go.” She replied.
“Sounds awesome.” I said, laughing.
- -
I walked with Heather to her car, carrying her extra bag for her. The top to her convertible was down, so I threw her stuff in her passenger seat. I hopped in the back, laying across. She sat in the front, turning on the radio, and climbed over, and lay on top of me. As I put my arms around her, she pecked me on the lips, and we just hung there. After an hour or so, I was starting to fade, but I felt the weight get off my body and the car starting. I stood in place until the car stopped after a short journey. I got up, rubbed my eyes, and saw Heather had parked her car next to mine.

“Thanks for the lift.” I said.

Laughing, she replied, “No problem. See you tonight.”

I kissed her goodbye, and got in my car. I loved doing absolutely nothing but hanging with her. It was stress-free and happy environment. The worries of what school I would end up attending after high school was killing me inside lately, and Heather helped out immensely. I parked my car in the garage for the party, and went inside to help set up.

“Hey Ma,” I said, “Whaddya need help with?”
“Get the stuff outta of the trunk. Such a good boy.” She said, patting me on the head.

I went outside to open the trunk. Stuff was piled up in the back, so I started to bring in all of the hors d’ouerve trays and chips, and got to the refreshments. Tons and tons of beer and wine boxes littered the floor of the car. I jogged inside to ask my mom something.

“Mom, where do you want all of the beverages?”
“Leave them in the kitchen. Put all but two or three here, and store the rest in the laundry room fridge downstairs for later.” She replied.

I did as I was told, avoiding any weird conversation that could possibly occur. She knew I had friends coming over, and that was pretty much it. She knew we were teenagers, and that we like to have fun. The laundry room thing was expected, I guess. She won’t mind us drinking a few.

I ran into my room, got some clean clothes, and turned on the shower. I put my jeans, polo, and underwear with my sneakers outside the door, and turned on my music, closing the bedroom door. Going into my basement from the kitchen, you’d walk into a living room area with a pool table on the side, a flat screen with leather furniture. Opposite of the room led a small bar on the side, no beverages stocked, and a small hallway leading to a laundry room on the end, and my room. My room had a huge bed on the side, a desk, and a nice tv. Not too big. The end of the room had a full bathroom. The room itself was shaped like a shoebox, but I loved it. There was a window above my dresser that was small, but I can get people in and out there easily. I hopped in the shower real quick, and got nice and fresh. I shaved again for later, just in case. When I was done, I opened the door and grabbed my clothes, and got em on. I stepped out in good shape, to see Dave sitting on my bed, sipping a Budweiser.

“What up dude?” He said, enthusiastically.

The red case of beer stuck out slightly under my bed, so I tucked it in, and bumped his fist. Some obscure college football game was on TV, which Dave seemed to be interested in somewhat. I walked out of my room to find nobody in the living room yet. Upstairs, I cleaned and helped my parents set up the final touches. I said “Hello” to Dave’s parents and ran outside to greet Heather. I was close to showing affection but I gave her a friendly hug instead, and hugged her mom and gave her dad a good handshake. We walked in together, and I led Heather downstairs. As we got in my room, Dave was shotgunning the rest of his first beer. Heather hugged Dave, and I started up a party playlist I made on my Mac. I lay down on my bed as Dave dragged my leather love chair I had at the foot of my bed to the TV area. Heather crawled up into my front, and her phone began to buzz. After reading her text, she asked me, “Can a couple friends come by?” She asked.

“Sure. Tell them to park a block away and I’ll sneak them in here in an hour or so. They’ve gotta wait a bit so it’s not suspicious.” I said.

“Perfect.” She said, and kissed me. Dave scoffed, and pulled out his drawstring backpack. He pulled out a lighter, his wallet, and his little glass pipe, and said, “For later.” He said.

Heather and I looked at each other, smiling. “All right.” I said in approval.

- - -

After chilling and talking for a while, Heather got the call her friends were here. Dave got straight up from his semi-slumber and ran into the bathroom to tidy himself up. I walked over to the dresser and tippy-toed up to unlatch the window, pulling it in. The window creeked open, and a minute later, footsteps and feminine giggles were heard. Dave walked out and cracked open a new beer. A face appeared at the window, and I winked. Heather came over, cleared the top of the dresser with me, and grabbed Amanda’s hand, helping her in. Carrie followed her, and a mystery girl followed her. Dave greeted each one of them with a Bud and I closed the bathroom door. I walked over to the bedroom door, shut it quietly, and made room for everyone to sit.

We sat around, just chilling. I grabbed candles, lit those and turned out the lights. It was a really cool scene, and as we got more and more buzzed, time flew by quicker and quicker. The bin I had under the bed seemed to fill up with crushed cans quicker and quicker, soon stuff started to blend together. Stuff happened more than I could will it to happen. Yeah, we were getting drunk, but Dave and I were a lot more than the girls, and it felt like I was making Heather uncomfortable. I remember when the night took a turn for the worst. It’s kind of blurry, but I know I fucked up. I tried to get intimate with her while we were hanging out, and when she said “later,” I said something terrible.

I called her a cunt.

I’m not proud of it. I wish I didn’t try and get wasted. The room was spinning after the slap to the face, and I passed out in tears, Dave trying to perk me up. I was crying, I threw shit across the room, and tidied up and cleaned until I crashed on the floor.

- - -

Hung over as hell, I woke up and rubbed my temples to find some relief. Dave was talking on his phone to some girl. He looked cheerful and happy. I could barely breathe without something hurting. My face still tingled from the bash, and I didn’t want to move. I clambered onto the bed and snuggled in slightly to try and find my happy place, until Dave got off the phone.

“Dude. You dumbass, hahaha!”

I wasn’t laughing.

“Uuuuhhh,” I groaned, “Get me an aspirin.”
“Fuck aspirin,” he stated, “Come on.”
“Fuck you.” I said.

He went to his bag and walked into the bathroom, and the fan went on.

“I don’t want a shower.” I mumbled loudly.
“Not that. Come on.”

I fell out of bed, and crawled basically into the restroom. Dave was packing a bowl in the pipe he showed to me and – well, you know. He searched his pockets and got out his lighter.

“It won’t hurt anymore.” He said. “I promise.”
“Fine.”

I put the glass piece to my lips, which he lit for me. I inhaled, which wasn’t that bad. I held it in, like he said, and blew the smoke into the fan, shutting the door. Nothing really happened for a bit. I thought it would be different, smoking for the first time. It was nothing special—at first. After we passed it back and forth till we were done, I could feel my muscles loosening and my vision going. I cleaned as much as my mental capacity, dwindling, would allow me to. I sprayed Axe around, and sprayed the doorway. It smelled AMAZING. I walked into this new world onto my cloud of a bed, and relaxed. The pain was still there, but it didn’t bother me per se, more I just didn’t pay attention to it. My heartbeat was very interesting, and my limbs pulsated with pleasure. Any sore parts of my body were being untensed noticeably by the dank. I lay there, much better and I wasn’t thinking much about, well, Heather.

- - -


The two next weeks, I didn’t go to the club. School was terrible. I got high a lot and passed away my troubles by smoking bowls. I was relying on pot to keep my mind of Heather—there, I said it—and be happy with my life. I said I wouldn’t become a pothead to her from the beginning and I was pretty much the definition. The dance was in two days, and I didn’t know if I was going. I had talked to Dave about it, who I was completely cool with now, and I was considering it. At least that relationship wasn’t public.

On Tuesday, I went to the club to sleep for lunch. My head was throbbing for some reason, so I lay down on one of the sofas and closed my eyes. I was so depressed smiling was a fucking chore. I felt the world I was in slipping away. My consciousness so going and going, time slowing. The pain was tolerable the less I thought, and then—cold, hard tile colliding with my face. I woke up with my teeth scratching the white stone, nose dislocating. I stumbled onto one knee, balancing on my fist; I rub my face, which felt incredibly disheveled, trying to look pissed off. I look up to see Dave behind where the sofa used to be upright, smirking.

“Dude, man… wuhthefuck…” I groaned.
“Come to the me or I will slash your tires. You need some tail. Heather’s sick today, it won’t be awkward.” He said.
“Fuck. Off.” I said.

He walked out, and I went to the fridge to grab water. I downed it quick, and sat down on the sofa after flipping it back over. Trying to gain some sort of sanity again, I closed my eyes, head back. The bell rang a few minutes later, so I got up and went to class. I got sent to the nurse five minutes later for a killer nosebleed.

- - -

At the end of class for the day, I decided I would go to the meeting. It was about time, Dave was right. I walked in as the second person there—the first, of fucking course, was Heather, sitting back with a book, focused on the text. I dumped my shit on the first bed, and walked to the fridge to get some iced tea. She looked up to see who the strange figure was, and looked a sort of dumbfounded, awkward, whatthefuckshouldIdoorsay look. I looked at her, unperturbed, while walking back to my stuff. I sat there, waiting as more and more people poured into the niche, seats taken up. As things began to heat up, I realized sooner that I was the only one without a partner. I looked to see Dave getting head from Amanda, Heather asleep, Carrie riding Jack, and Ben going down on the attractive Asian girl I had yet to meet. There were a few others I didn’t know or care about. But Heather; she wasn’t with anyone. Was she not feeling it? Or, was she only down for me?

I walked over to see her, but she looked comfortable napping. I walked back over, and decided that was a good idea too.

- -

I woke up to Dave buckling up his belt and putting on his loafers. “You all right man?” He asked.

“Yeah, ‘mgood.” I said.
“Apparently, after what happened to Heather, you’re on the club pussy boycott.” Said Dave.

I looked at him grimly.

“Boycott? Fuck me.”
“Go figure,” he laughed, “sweet revenge.”

I was being fucking boycotted. I didn’t care, but at the same time, I was pissed. This was blown way out of proportion, and now, my duly deserved rights as a member of the club are gone. I could use some relief right now, and was smoking weed to relieve any issues. I could’ve done something more creative, but I enjoyed packing a bowl with my bros.

The day of the dance came, and even then, I didn’t feel like going. There was no point really. Everyone probably knew by now, so there was no point in meeting anyone, but, at the same time, a rave would be nice to blow off some steam. I debated this as the day went on, and when I talked to Dave, he convinced me to go. Easily.

“I got a Vape bro!”

He got a vape. If you don’t understand weed lingo, a vape is a vaporizer. Instead of inhaling smoke and crap, you inhale vapor, cleaner and less smelly. The theme of the dance was crazy-euro-hipster shit, so I wore my craziest. Tight fit shirt, technocolored shors, headbands and wristbands galore. I think metrosexuality was a must. I drove up to Dave’s place and saw him come out looking like he was trapped in DJ Pauly D’s closet for a week. He was sweating hair gel but the time he got into my car.

“Looking good man. Ready to hook up with some bitches dog?” He asked me, raising his hand for a five.

I met his hand, saying, “Hell yeah man.”

He whipped out his little vape, and said, “Oh baby!”

“Later,” I said, “No risks.”
“All righty.”

When we got there, we followed the long rainbow of brightly colored teens into the gym. The place was bumping techno, but no one was making the first move. It was all high fives and hugs, no fun. I hated that.

“Dave,” I screamed over the music, “We gotta start this shit going.”
“Yeah man.” He said. “Oh shit, some dubstep? For real?” He added.

We ran in front of the booth and started bouncing, fist pumping. It was awkward as shit, but eventually, some chicks came over and got it going with us. It was funny, they were totally drunk and had no inhibitions, so it was cool. Everyone started huddling in, and by the end of the third song, we had to get out of there. We ran out behind the crowd past the DJ, who motioned for us to join him. We hopped up, and he put his hands together, I guess meaning to give us thanks. We stood up there as we saw the cluster of teenagers hopping and grinding. You could practically feel the sweat dropping from up here. It was really, really dark though. The place illuminated ever so slightly to the deep bass, but not much. I don’t know how you could really see. I guess your eyes could adjust somewhat, but it was crazy. Some of those girls could really freak dance. They grinded like their life depended on it. I tapped Dave on the shoulder, and pointed to see the large group of dancers totaling around 20 grinding like hell. Dave smirked, and jumped off. I followed him, and saw the guys walk away at the end of the song. We started slowly walking up, and saw two of them dancing together, trying to get attention. I pointed at myself, then pointed to the taller brunette one, while Dave got the other. He nodded. We went up, and I took the hips of my girl. I pulled her towards me, and she greeted me by starting to grind her ass on my dick. Her butt looked amazing in the dance skin tights she wore, and when I looked down, I could actually see something. Her hot pink clothes contrasted well, so I could see some. She bent over and grinded harder, and I started pumping my right fist to the beat. I saw Dave pretty much molesting the chick he was with, who didn’t seem to mind his actions. His hands were all over her, and when we made eye contact, he stuck out his tongue and raised his head at me. The girl I was dancing with arched her back into me, grabbing my hands and pulling them into her pants. I laughed as she helped me cup her vagina. I grinded harder into her, and rubbed her clit. Her head shot up in pleasure, and she grinded even harder. When I slipped a finger into her slightly, and I felt her whole body shudder. Her hand reached around us behind my neck, and pulled my head next to her. Things were getting crazy and when the songs changed and Dave moved on, I stayed. She didn’t change a thing. I slipped two in, and she whipped right around, and looked at me. My heart stopped.

It was Heather.

- -

We looked at each other. The close embrace didn’t budge, and our noses we crazy close to touching. She looked like she just saw a ghost, and her eyes darted everywhere. Either she was regretting it or pleasantly surprised. I didn’t mind it at all. I mean, I freaked out when I saw here face, but it was really hot. She was danced better than anyone I’ve been with. She backed away, letting go of me. I grabbed her hand to stop her, but she pulled her hand off. She started squeezing in between people and moved her way out. I started to follow, but I lost her in the humid dark. I started to walk around, looking for Dave, but I couldn’t find him. My mind raced with doubts and fears. What happened? Is she still that mad?

- - -

I walked out of the gym and looked at my phone. Nothing. I drank from the water fountain, and started walking back inside, when Dave walked out. “YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!” he screamed.
“You look happy.” I said.
“Dude. Dudeeee. What’s wrong man?!!?” he asked, still hyped up from the music.

“That chick I was dancing wit—“
“DUDE SHE WAS FINE!!!”
“Yeah, well, that was Heather.”

He lifted a fist to his mouth, which was wide open.

“Oh dude. Bro. No fucking WAY! She was sexy as shit out there… you guys chill now?”

“No.”

He walked to me, put an arm around my shoulder, and said, “Let’s go find her man, you gotta talk to her bro.”


- - -

We started strolling around the mosh of people. It was pretty hopeless. It was just a giant mob of Technicolor teenagers jumping and grinding. It was a giant circle of sweat and stank, and I swore I saw here eight times at least, each of them totally different girls most of which I knew, but didn’t like me at all. I just wanted to say something to her, but I couldn’t find her at all. We had been walking around for two hours until I saw Dave again, who had just gotten slapped in the face by a girl after some weird shit.

I approached him, laughing.

“What happened, bro?”
“She knew she wanted it.” He said, touching his face tenderly.
“Did you try to make out with her?” I asked.
“I said she wanted it.” He replied, with chutzpa.

Me, playfully backing off, changed the subject.

“Nothing.”
“You kept looking?” he asked, laughing.

I probably looked like a baffled moron when he answered.

“I stopped forever ago. You didn’t dance with anyone else?”
“No, you fucking douche—“
“Relax, man. They’re turning the lights on in a few minutes anyways. Let’s wait by the purse check.”

We walked out, got some water, and stood our ground by the purse check area. We knew the lights when on when the ominous groan emanated from the sweat lodge. The crowd began to pour out, and I stood on my tiptoes, looking out to see if Heather was coming out. Dave stood by the table the purse tickets were exchanged, and five minutes in, nothing to report. I kept looking out, and I thought I saw her walk into the bathroom, so I walked against the crowd, and waited by the door.

I looked down at my feet, which were trembling in anxiety. My knees felt weak. My left ring finger twitched; my neck ached. Time seemed to go by slower and slower. It was really packed in the ladies’ room, I could hear the hodgepodge of voices from feet out of range. I twiddled my thumbs just to keep myself occupied, and greeted every lovely lady that walked out of the restroom. I looked over to Dave to see anything, but he shook his head at me, still looking for me. He was a good friend allocating all his bad qualities. We stood there for a little while more, maybe ten or so minutes, until another girl walked out.

“Hey, sorry, but is there anyone else in there?”

The girl shook her head, and I looked up in disgust. I shook my head to Dave, and he shrugged. I walked over to him, dapped his outstretched fist nonguadily, and walked out, ashamed.

- - -

I woke up at 230 to my phone vibrating over and over again. I played with eyes to keep them up and looked at the stupid little machine to see a local phone calling me, no contact.

“Hullo?” I groaned.
“Tommy! Get down to Heather’s house. She’s been in the bathroom for hours, you fucking blew it with her at the dance and she was in the gym bathroom forever! She was there an hour after it was over! We can’t get her out, please drive down.”

“Wait—what?”
“She won’t get out of her bathroom. She’s crying over you Tom, we don’t know what to do.”

“Um, yeah. I’ll be right down.”

I grabbed a hoodie from the floor, and creeped out the porch door. I jogged around the side building, and walked down the paveway to my car. I drove down to her house, and parked on the opposite end of her cul-de-sac, and ran to her backyard. I tapped on her bedroom window, and Carrie opened it up for me.

“Hey. Thanks.” I said.
“I’m freaking out for her. Just talk to her or something.”
“Ok. How long has she been in there?”
“Since we got back. Nearly 3 hours now.”
“Shit.”

I walked down the hall to her asylum, and knocked. I heard shuffling in her bathtub, slightly sobbing. She wasn’t taking a bath; she was sitting in there, moping to her own self. I stalled, and looked blankly at Carrie, while Amanda was rolling a joint. I pointed to her with Carrie’s attention with a puzzled look. She smirked.

“Heather.”

The sobbing didn’t subside. I said her name louder. “Heather. It’s Tom.”

“T- Tom? What the fuck? Tom? Leave!”

I looked to Carrie, who looked up in exhaustion, hands on her face. “No.” I answered.

I slicked my hair back, and pulled up my hoodie sleeves. “Come on, Heather.”

I could hear her getting up out of the bath, and her moving towards the door. But, instead of opening it, she sat right next to it, and put her head against it.

“All you alright?” I asked her.
“I couldn’t handle what happened tonight. I thought I was finally past what happened and felt like I could enjoy being free and a real high school girl. When I found out you were dancing with me, I freaked. It was the perfect storm.”

I chuckled a little, and said, “I was happy about it. Twist of fate, you know.”
“It pissed me off. I went to the bathroom and cried until we got kicked out after the dance.”
“The girl that walked out said there was no one else in the bathroom. You told her not to.”
“No, I didn’t. I think Amanda did.”

I looked back to Carrie. She nodded. She gave me a thumbs up to let me I know I was doing well, and I gave her a nod back.

“Are you coming out?” I asked.

I heard her quietly sigh, and get up. She opened the door and saw me sitting there, in my manjama-hoodie combo with my head on the wall, and laughed.

She wiped the tears from her eyes, and asked, “What time is it,” with a cheering grin.

I whipped out my phone. I showed her the illuminated screen. “3? Holy crap.”

Amanda and Carrie walked down and hugged her, while I scooted out of the way, letting them sort whatever out or something. When they were done, I looked up. Carrie and Amanda were making their way back down the hall to her room, and Heather was in the bathroom touching up her face, fixing her eyes. I walked over to her, and stared at her in the mirror.

“You’re not a cunt, you know.”
“You’re a douche of a drunk, you know.”
“I deserve that.”
“I was over you. Well, nearly, and I’m not sure if I want to be. Yet.” She said, smiling.

I smiled, and she turned to me, and we hugged. I grabbed around her back, and while we were still embraced, we looked at each other. “Sorry.” I said.

She nodded, with that almost-cliche movie look face of accepting an apology, and kissed me. Just as we were about to get into it, Carrie stumbled into the threshold.

“We’re about t--- Oh, my fault. We’re about to light up. Join us?” she asked.

I turned back to Heather. She looked passive to say to yes, so I grabbed her hand and followed Carrie. I closed the bedroom door as Amanda creeked open the room window. I tossed Carrie a lighter that was on the desk, but Amanda held a hot pink bic in her hand. Carrie put the lighter on the bed, and sat down. I walked over to the window, next to Heather, who was sparking up the joint I saw Amanda rolling earlier. She puffed it twice, and handed it to me, blowing the smoke out her window. I stepped forward, inhaled, and blew out the smoke. I took one more hit, sat down, and handed it to Carrie. She went, then Amanda, then Heather. Heather took her hits, and handed it back to me. As I exhaled the second time, those familiar chemicals flooded my eyes and rushed my veins. I passed the joint, and looked to Heather, who smiled intently. Amanda finished off the joint, closed the window, and went to go flush it. Amanda sat on the blow up mattress they had prepared, and I lay on Heather’s bed. My heart pumped THC everywhere in my body, which was the best feeling I had ever felt. I wasn’t hung over or something like last time, and this time, I was in good measure. Heather sat at the end of the bed, and talked with her girlfriends. I was acting like a real lightweight, totally baked. They went on like they had just shared a cigarette, having their girl time, while I was settling down on Planet Stoned. Amanda went on Heather’s computer and played some really chill music, which my mind was totally digging. I must’ve hit the weed way too hard, I only took a couple of hits; this must’ve been some really good stuff. Hopefully by the end of the year or summer I wouldn’t be this bad at handling my smoke. I sat up, vision completely blurred and center of balance shot. I scooted over to Heather’s back and started to massage her sides. I was so high that I carefully examined each tendon I played with, and she snuggled her head back in appreciation. I kissed her neck and grabbed around her sides, hugging her into me. I was so happy we were back together, as dumb as it sounds and how cliche I don’t want it to be.

“Mmmm, don’t stop.” She said, lifting a hand to my head pulling me to kiss her more.

I was so high my body couldn’t control what it was doing. I was so high I was sitting back in the back of my mind watching me play with my girlfriend. I was so high, it felt like I was being tickled by millions of tiny gremlins. I was so high, I could still taste the paper we smoked. I was so high, it felt like Heather was a sexy teddy bear I didn’t want to let go of because she was so fucking cuddly. She squirmed free of me, and walked out to get some water. Water would be nice right now, I had cottonmouth like a mofo. I followed her into the bathroom, and drank straight from the running water. She yanked me back up from the sink, and put a glass under the running liquid. I wore a mischievous half-smile, and walked away back into her room. I lay down on the bed, and laughed, telling the girls what I did in my stoned stupor. They gave a look-at-this-chump look to each other, and looked back at me, snuggling with her pillow, getting to know it quite well. I took off my shirt and hoodie, tossed it on the floor, and got under the covers. I zoned out into a new world, mesmerized by the playing music. As time went by, I felt a figure touch my legs. Heather motioned me to scoot in, and she lay down next to me, on top of the covers. She grabbed my hands, and looked into my eyes. I looked back, barely holding back the giggles. We made long eye contact until I zoned out into her big eyes, which I fell in love with with.

“What’s up?” I whispered.

The other girls were falling asleep as we kept talking. As time passed, she got more and more under the covers. She crawled on top of me and hugged around me. I pulled the cover up, and kissed her cheek. She returned the favor, and I stopped her. I waited for Carrie to stop moving in the dark, and then she kissed me again. I grabbed her ass, and she gave that squeal I loved. I grabbed around her, pulling her into me, and pulled her tee off. She pulled her shorts down, and I pulled off my flannel pajamas. Socks flew off and her bra found the floor too. Our naked flesh rubbed against each other, and felt great with the cold air and, yeah, I was high. We lay there for a little, kissing and grinding on each other. I was hard as fucking concrete when she finally pulled my boxers off. She climbed on top of me, sexily shedding her panties, and sat up. I grabbed my dick, pointed it up, and she did the rest. As her familiar, inviting pussy surrounded my dick, I threw back my head in pleasure. The mix of being stoned and fucking her was the best feeling in the world.

“Stop it guys!” one of the girls whispered.

Heather giggled, and lay down on my chest, dick barely in her.

“We should stop…” she said quietly.
“Come on—“ I said.
“It’s late.”

She got next to me and pulled the blanket towards her, putting her head down. I put my hands to my face, sighed, and fell into the pillow. I looked straight to the ceiling, dying to get rid of my blue balls.

“Night guys.” I said to the others. I kissed Heather on the cheek, trying to play this off. But, instead of falling asleep, I let my dick do the thinking. I put my arm around her and cupped my hand right around her twat, and stuck a finger in her pussy. The whole bed shook in reaction, so I stopped. I lined my dick right at her groin and pushed at her entrance with my cock, finally getting it in after some messing around. I put my weight back on the bed, and snuggled into her as if I we were spooning, and put my head down. I slowly went in and out of her, which was awesome. My heightened sense were feeling every possible bit of her pussy, which was heaven. Like a minute into it, Heather grabbed my hand and held it, squeezing it after every few thrusts in pleasure. We were slowly doing this for just about forever, whether it was or wasn’t, I couldn’t really tell from being under the influence. Sure enough, after what felt like a long time and after I think were two of her orgasms, I finally came, and a lot. That was definitely the greatest moment of my life.

- - -


Dave and I sat by the pool at his place, chilling in the sun, with some reggae kinda shit in the background. I hadn’t really noticed any particular song; I was just enjoying hanging with my bro instead of spending every free second with my girlfriend 7 days a week. She was shopping today with Colleen, and surprisingly didn’t want me to tag along. Dave had a cigar sticking out of his mouth while lying on his stomach on the chair; I was on my back and was doing nothing of the sort. We weren’t high, weren’t drinking, nothing. My phone vibrated on the ground next to me, but I didn’t feel like checking the text.

“Yo, what time is it?” I asked.

Dave was busy trying to light his cigar.

“Dave. Dave. Dave.” I said, escalating in volume.

He finally realized I was talking to him after he successfully lit it.

“Whadja walt?” he said without taking the Romeo out.
“Time?”

He looked at his phone. He put up three fingers.

“That must’ve been Heather.” I said, regarding the text I got.
“She wants your dick.” Dave said, laying back with his shades on, examining the sky. I think.
“I’m not her bitch.” I said, jokingly.

I checked my phone. It was indeed a text from Heather. She said she was coming by my place to hang out. I texted her back, saying I was hanging by the pool at Dave’s, and she should come by.

“Is Heather coming by?” Dave asked.
“I’m not sure. She may.”
“Sounds good. Is Colleen with her?”

I smirked.

“Yeah, she is. She’ll come.”
“Good.” He said, hand outstretched to me with the cigar in his hand. I grabbed it and took a nice hit.

“Is this one of your dad’s?” I asked, exhaling.
“He’s got a little humidor in the basement. He has ton of them.”
“Sweet. We have to do this more often.”

It tasted different; I never had anything like it before. I liked it, and the buzz was nice too. We got nearly 3/4 of the way down the cigar’s time when my phone got a call from Heather.

“What’s up?” I said enthusiastically.
“Wanna let us in?” She asked with faux sarcasm.
“You and Colleen?”
“Yeah, how’s the sun?”
“Come check it out.”

I walked around the side and let them in. Colleen had a bag with her, and Heather walked up to me and planted a kiss right on my lips. Dave was finishing the cigar by the time we got back around, and was just about to light another when he saw us, putting it aside.

“What’s up?” he asked.
“Nuthin. Shit, you rolling blunts?” Heather asked.
“Naw, it’s straight. We were having a classy time until you guys showed up.”

Heather made a poo-on-you face as a joke, and pulled around two more pool seats. I lay back down on the chair, and put on shades.

“Who else is here?” Colleen asked.
“Just us.” Dave said.

Heather and Colleen looked right at each other, and went for one of the bags they had with them. They pulled out a cigarette, a magazine (of course they would have one), and their stash. They smoked too much, and I was getting tired of it. Ever since the night of the dance, she had been getting baked all the time since.

- - -

I wanna let you guys tell me where to go from here. I put way too much time into this one, and I wanna make it better. Comment and rate better, Im getting shit ratings for nothing.
18 comments

Anonymous readerReport 

2014-12-24 13:56:50
Dude, seriously i dont think the idea of smokes and other drugs is a great one. I would suggest you to get rid of it as soon as possible. Get some kind of fight in the story (maybe with some other secret sterotype club) and i am pretty sure people would like it

Anonymous readerReport 

2014-08-08 18:33:46
the beginning was very good , the idea with the club , but it turned crazy when you made them all potheads ... if you continue get them back to the club and leave the drugs out of it

Storm9305Report 

2013-09-03 07:07:51
Wen z d next part cumin out dude

anonymous readerReport 

2012-12-29 02:07:44
Cant wait for part 5

anonymous readerReport 

2012-12-29 02:07:24
dont worry about what we want just go with the flow of it

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