Continuing to roll on Molly and stroll down Holly….wood Boulevard (yeah, ya like that?!), I unleash a fury of nonstop questions as Fifty Shades walks besides me
Me: *in one fluid sentence* OK Fifty, where are you from, where do you live, how old are you, do you have a job, do you have a car, why the FUCK are you in your pajamas, and what the hell are you doing outside of the club telling girls you’re looking for casual sex?
Fifty Shades: *keeping pace with me* Well, I’m from Pittsburgh, I live in Santa Monica, I’m 27, yes I have a job I’m in sales, I was at a pajama party at Avalon tonight, and I’m on Molly right now you’re actually the only girl I said that to.
Me: *stopping abruptly to face him* Wait………you’re on Molly right now?
Fifty Shades: *tight-lipped and nodding* Mmm hmm…
Me: *grabbing his hands and exclaiming excitedly* Holy shit I’M on Molly right now! You are so fucking cool Fifty (I bet he made up his name though because he knows about the stupid fucking book…there’s no way he has the same first and last name as main protagonist in Fifty Shades of Grey…oh he’s good….)! Wait…is that your real name? I don’t fucking believe you…
Fifty Shades: *reaching into his wallet* Haha yeah it is…here *handing me his license*
Me: *taking his license and completely shocked at what I’m reading* Yup….wow. I guess that is your real name. You must be loving this what with that book coming out and what not.
Fifty Shades: What book?
The two of us now holding hands as we continue back to my place, his short friend walking alongside us, I’m pretty sure I just manifested my fantasy birthday sex for the night. This is enough for me to take this man home. Job, gorgeous, and a car to get the FUCK OUT when I’m done with him? Done, done, and done. I can’t just deny what the Universe is throwing at me! That’s like denying chocolate ice cream from Jesus! HOW DARE YOU!!!!! Sure you may be cutting back because you don’t want anybody to judge you for having some that you may have found on the side of the street…but HELLO!! IT’S JESUS! Yeah, WHAT? Go ahead and try to argue this with me.
All the girls made it back to my place before us. Upon stepping into my apartment, I see Cookies, Sunny, and Angel sprawled out on my living room floor, blankets and pillows spread rampantly across the ground beneath them; Persian Princess is in my bed. That bougie bitch; she knew I was bringing this guy home!
In my kitchen, I stand and talk to Fifty Shades’ friend from behind my breakfast bar, Fifty Shades sidling up next to me.
Fifty Shades: *his face close to mine* Hey do you have a cigarette?
Me: *wanting a cigarette right now as this is what my 16-year-old self would have done while she was rolling* Actually no…but I love smoking when I’m rolling I wish I had one!
Fifty Shades: Yeah I want one now too. I don’t normally smoke but I had one earlier tonight…*lowering his gaze and voice* Don’t worry though, you won’t taste it.
Wow. My jaw drops slightly as I am unbelievably wet with sweat and wanting him sooooooooooooo bad right now. I cannot get over how FUCKING CONFIDENT this guy is! But, wait, who says I’m tasting ANYTHING tonight?! Yeah so what if I let you come home with me and we’re both on the one drug notorious for making you a crazy, horny whore? That doesn’t mean I’m putting out……right? (I already know damn well that APPARENTLY inviting a guy up into your apartment means you’re fucking him…or at least tickling his balls, which is precisely why I NEVER invite men into my apartment…that and my intimacy issues….DAMN THIS DRUG!)
Attempting to contain myself from ripping off his pants and whipping out his penis right here in my kitchen in front of his friend, I swallow hard, back away, and offer him some Sunny D, demanding that I think we should just run rampantly up and down Hollywood Boulevard until the sun comes up. He happily agrees.
Knowing damn well that I didn’t want to walk around in 7-inch stilettos during our sunrise stroll and roll, I skip and hop into my bedroom to change into a hot pink wifebeater and navy blue ADIDAS mesh shorts. THERE. Now we match. Persian Princess arises from her drunken slumber and demands I fuck him in the bed while she’s in it, insisting that, “Don’t worry about me baby I don’t mind! Just please get a dick in your little birthday pussy tonight, OK? I love you don’t worry about me I’ll just be sleeping.” If she didn’t have the cutest, sexxxxxiest Persian accent, I would normally be really fucking creeped out by this statement. Because it’s her, I find it endearing.
As I stand there contemplating whether or not I’d actually do it, reminding myself that the 16-year-old version of me ALWAYS had sex with my friends in the bed, Fifty Shades comes into my bedroom from behind me, asking, “Hey can I see your view?” Ushering him inside, I draw the shades and blinds open, the both of us looking out of my wall-to-wall window and over the city, which is still bright with lights and booming with bass from the clubs down below.
The two of us standing in silence taking in the sight, Persian Princess mumbles loudly from beneath the covers, “CLOSE THE DOOR.” Fucking what? Shrugging at one another, Fifty Shades and I go to leave when we hear Persian Princess mumble again, “BUT DON’T LEAVE.” Obeying her orders, Fifty Shades closes the door as the two of us take our seats on the bed. Again, from beneath the covers, we hear “TURN OFF THE LIGHTS.” Without hesitation or question, I get up and shut off the lights. Somehow, neither of us find this strange. Before I can turn around, Fifty Shades comes up behind me and scoops me up into his arms, now carrying me over to the bed. Holy shit. Nothing can get me hotter than a guy who can lift me up into the air that easily. AND HOT I AM. Time for my birthday present.