I don’t fuck my friends.
If you’re a guy friend of mine, I won’t fuck you, I won’t suck you, and I sure as hell will never even consider doing so either.
In fact, I won’t become friends with a guy if there is even the slightest hint of a sexual attraction there!
Or so I say.
So last week…
Drummer and I both admitted that we held back.
We both admitted to being too scared to get involved emotionally before.
We both decided we’d try again.
He backed out.
Agreed to just be friends.
Fucking typical, right?
I mean, shit, do I REALLY wanna fuck just one person in my life right now?
But DON’T YOU WORRY!
Cuz I sure as FUCK am not gonna be one of those girls that agrees to be friends while sitting around hoping he’ll eventually love her as much as she love, love, LOOOOVES him!
Besides, he already broke my heart once, maybe it’s best to leave it at that.
Anyway, it’s Friday night and I invite him over to go wreak havoc around Hollywood.
“I’ve got one hit of Molly and we can definitely get more once we’re at the club!” I tell him.
Drummer is sucker for drug-induced debauchery, even though we’ve never even done drugs together.
Answering the door to my apartment, I give him a big hug and let him know that my fucking dealer is flaking. We then decide to go to the Parlour Room at the corner to wait it out.
As soon as we enter, I lock eyes with a beautiful brown-haired boy standing at the bar.
We both look each other up and down.
Mmm, sexy ass.
Would it be terribly fucked up of me to hit on another guy with Drummer here?
I mean that’s what I would do if I were out with my real friends…so I should be fine, right?
The thought alone comforts me out of doing so, as I’ve successfully convinced myself that I have no genuine interest in sleeping with Drummer tonight.
In fact, I washed all my sheets and blankets right before so he could sleep comfortably on my couch!
I am OBVIOUSLY a FUCKING GENIUS!
Now, the entire night can pretty much be summed up as a night out drinking with my good friend: laughs, high fives, and NO SEXUAL TENSION.
Everything I wanted and planned!
Until we get to the club…
Once inside Avalon, we’re met with a plethora of boys, babes, and bass as dubstep pounds against the walls. My plan is to find the hardest rolling individuals and demand, “GIVE ME YOUR DRUGS!”
This plan works every time.
On the dance floor, I walk up to the sweatiest, hippiest type girl I can find, as she feverishly feels herself up alongside the men who follow along:
Me: *petting her face as I sweetly suggest* Hey gorgeous…I want what you’re on!
Clubgoer Hoe: *turned on by my touch and ferociously licking her lips and grinding her teeth, as she continues to sway back and forth while two men feel her up from behind* Oh my GOD! This is the BEST SHIT I have EVER BEEN ON in my ENTIRE LIFE!!!!!!! *as her eyes roll to the back of her head*
Me: *nodding in agreement* OK, yeah, AWESOME where can I get some of that, sweetheart??
Clubgoer Hoe: *eyes closed and continuing to sweat, grind, and feel herself up* Gone. Yup. All gone! All me…all in me! Aaaaaaaaallllll of it inside meeeeee!
Fuck man, come on!
It’s only 3:30 in the morning people!
Who the FUCK takes all their drugs this early when the club is open til 8?!
Rolling my eyes and shaking my head, I look over at Drummer as his eyes meet mine.
He slowly smiles and takes my hand in his, people pouring themselves into a drug-induced delirium around us as he pulls me closer into him, the two of us now pressed up against one another and slowly swaying to the beat.
Fuck, not again…
Drummer then places both of his hands behind my back and meets his forehead to mine, neither one of us saying a damn thing as we dance.
In this moment, I feel his arms wrap tighter around me and his breath against mine, as my knees start to buckle from under me…
And in this moment, I feel for free the excitement, euphoria, and intensity under which the rest of my fellow club-goers are currently subdued.
Fuck, I want him.
I want him bad.
Then it hits me: I don’t do this shit with my friends.
I immediately push him off me and insist we leave.
There’s no sense in doing drugs now; I’m tired and sleepy and just wanna go home.
I storm off into the crowd before he gets a chance to argue or catch up.
Outside on the walk down Vine St., I look up at Capitol Records and realize this is the earliest I’ve ever come home from Avalon.
At 4:30 in the morning.
I look behind me and see Drummer striding behind, as I think to myself, “Fuck, Jayla, you know he’s sleeping over tonight, right?”
Yes, self, I’m fully aware of that…
Now how the fuck are we gonna get out of this one?
Turning the corner onto Yucca St., Drummer lightly jogs to catch up with me
Drummer: *behind me trying to catch up* What’s going on with you? Why are you acting like this?
Me: *an oblivious reply* What are you talking about? Acting like what? *making a point to still walk a couple steps ahead of him, somehow able to walk faster than him in my 7-inch stilettos*
Drummer: *not letting up* THIS. You’re acting all….stand-off…ish…and shit. What’s going on? *he demands, catching up next to me*
Me: *still not letting up either, taking off my stilettos to walk faster* Nothing…I’m just really drunk (NOT!) and tired and wanna go home *now rounding a left onto my street*
Truth is, I wanna get as far away from cuddling and canoodling on the dance floor as possible. At least in my own home I can’t be convinced by the music, which somehow always seems to be my carnal kryptonite!
Yup…I blame it on the bass.
Walking into my apartment, I see my one hit of Molly sitting on my kitchen counter. I feel really bad for not having had a super diabolical drug-fest with Drummer like I’d promised.
I pour the Molly out of its capsule and onto my vanity mirror.
“Ya wanna half this shit and call it a night?” I ask.
He’s never done it before so I figure this’ll be fine.
We probably won’t feel shit.
But it’ll probably be enough to at least feel tingly and talkative before bed.
I grab my debit card and make a thin line, then roll up a bill and take up half.
I hand him the rolled up bill.
“Am I gonna die?!” he asks all wide-eyed, taking the paraphernalia from me.
He is such a pussy sometimes!
I choose not to dignify this question with a response, but rather roll my eyes and walk to my room to get into my pa-jam-jams.
I hear him snorting behind me.
In my wife-beater and lace panties, I lay face up in my bed as I INSTANTLY feel a soft, subtle surge of euphoria course through my body.
Wow…that was quick.
I look over at Drummer who’s now climbing into bed next to me, his eyes rolling into the back of his head and his hands now tracing up the length of his torso.
Oh he definitely feels it too.
“Holy shit….oh my God…WOW! This feels GREAT!”
Yup, he definitely feels it too.
I roll over on my side and put my back towards him.
I’m careful not to touch him in his own state of sensational surrender.
With my eyes closed and little luscious tingles traveling through every one of my pores, I feel Drummer’s hands run up my bare thigh and underneath my shirt across my belly.
He pulls me into him.
I feel him rock hard against my ass.
My entire body immediately erupts in waves of unrelenting arousal.
I’m so hot right now…I want him so FUCKING BAD right now.
I want him in between me and inside me and all over me and all THROUGHOUT me now!
I immediately grip between my legs as a means to somehow stop from myself from cumming from his touch.
Yup, there it is: I’m so wet right now.
“Don’t touch me!!” I snap at him, slapping his hand away and curling tighter into the fetal position. “Friends don’t fucking do this, OK?!”
He doesn’t fight me.
“What….? I can’t help it…you turn me on so much…I’m sorry…” Drummer sounds hurt and ashamed as he pulls away.
In my Tempur-pedic, I feel him slithering and writhing next to me on his own.
I can almost feel his desperation to touch me.
Or is that what I feel for him?
Oh my God…I feel like such a bitch is what I feel.
Did I really expect to take “The Love Drug” and NOT fuck him?
FUCK I can’t help how wet I am right now just from knowing he’s laying next to me.
I moan and squirm from what’s going on between my thighs.
Oh my God (!) this feels too good to handle.
“I’m sorry…..I’m sorry…please don’t be mad….” I hear him plead from behind me.
Oh my God.
I can’t fucking help it anymore…
So I don’t.