In true happy-birthday fashion, I organized a slutty slumber party Friday night to ring in my 26th year of being a living, breathing, fucking being . A slutty slumber party is a nightly gathering during which all my gorgeous girlfriends don their slimmest, sluttiest attire for a night out on Hollywood Boulevard, only to get so ridiculously hammered and fucked up to the point that, when and if we do eventually make it back to my apartment, we’re all too inebriated to change out of our hoochie outfits and into pajamas, further blacking out in our current skanky skinnies or just plain NAKED. Hence, “slutty slumber party.” And yes, these incidentally do involve naked pillow fights as well. You’re actually correct on that one, boys.
While getting ready in my apartment, Cookies, Sunny, Angel, Persian Princess, and I jam-pack in my bathroom sprawled across my mirror fighting for space and the straightener. After about our 4th consecutive shot of Vodka and Sunny Delight, I break it to the girls that tonight I, unlike the rest of them, would not be drinking myself into a birthday oblivion and that I, instead, will be rolling my face off on Molly, insisting that one of them come along on my journey considering I have TWO pills. In a synchronized sigh, my four fellow females shrug and give me their blessings, each agreeing that they’d rather drink and get obliterated on alcohol. OK, ladies, as long as we’re all good with that.
All week long, I’d been reading Fifty Shades of Grey, the highly erotic, highly pornographic, and highly romantic novel currently sweeping the nation’s female fantasies by storm; I am by no means any exception to the latter. The book can best be described as a hard-core porno that has the ability to make you weep uncontrollably due to how sincerely sweet it can oftentimes be. While reading it, I never know whether to cry or cum; I usually do both. After having spent hours every night prior masturbating alongside vivid descriptions of these romantically sado-masochistic scenarios, I told the universe that I need hot nasty, borderline-humiliating birthday sex, much like that depicted in the story. Happy birthday to me please?!?!
Once it hits me, the last thing on my mind is getting dick. I love my friends! I love that we’re together! I love dancing! I love this music! I love this club! I love Hollywood! I love Los Angeles! I love my liiiiiiiiiiiiife!!! LIFE IS SO WONDERFUL AND AMAZING AND GOOD AND BEAUTIFUL AND INVIGORATING AND SPECIAL AND HAPPY AND PERFECT!!!!!!!!! WAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!! Euphoria pulsates throughout my skin and senses as I spend the entire night feeling myself up, dancing on the platform and simultaneously hugging and kissing my friends every time I find them again. I tend to wander around aimlessly when I’m rolling, unaware and uncaring of anything but touching anybody and everybody around me, no matter who it is. I feel 16 again, as opposed to 26. I heard living in Hollywood will do that to you. That is precisely what it’s doing to me RIGHT NOW. Tonight, I am one year older in age and TEN years YOUNGER in mentality.
This is the first time Persian Princess is out with us, primarily because she’s engaged and not a single slut. In her super TOIT little 5’2, golden tan body, Persian Princess is dancing and swaying to the music, her big curly brown and blonde hair scrunched up in her fists as she closes her eyes and screams out about how much she LOVE LOVE LOVES her little BROWNIE (her unusually fitting name for me) and wants to see me get FUCKED HARD tonight. This is her mission for the night: to get me fucked so violently you’d think my body aged twenty years from the physical deterioration and exhaustion. She spends the entire time at the club shoving men into me, hoping one of their dicks will miraculously enter my vajay as her happy birthday present to me. I shove all of them back at her, hold her tightly and tell her, “I’d rather fuck yoooou tonight, Mama!” as I cling onto her little body and press my face into her big boisterous hair, vigorously inhaling the Cocoa Mademoiselle perfume in which she is currently doused.
At closing time, I survey all my girlfriends: Sunny as usual is being stalked by several scary men because of how fucking gorgeous she is and how exposed her super gigantic bouncy tittiess are in her low-cut shirt. Angel is stumbling alongside her laughing at the typical situation at play. Cookies is sitting down with a super sour-puss look on her face from having lost her phone FUCKING AGAIN (4th time this year) after some asshole tried groping her. Black Beauty Bookworm, who had joined us two hours late, is leaving us early now that she is $8 richer from having found all the money on the ground. As I sway and stand and stare at my ladies before me, I realize that not one of them is holding themselves up on their own; they’re fuckin tanked. I refuse to let this end my night.
Leaving the club, still energized and happy and bouncing and ROLLING hard, I exclaim, “WE’RE GOING TO AVALON ASSHOLES!!! AFTER PARTY TIL 5 WOOOOOOOO!!!!” They look devastated and distraught at this demand. Pssh. It’s my birthday, bitches. We will rage as I please.
Arriving on Argyle Ave., my birthday rage-a-thon comes to a halt when the door man tells us it’s $20 a person. Gazing back at my girls, I see how annihilated and defeated they currently are, as Sunny sulkily offers up a “If you really want to…it’s your birthday…” in an attempt to grant my wish. I love these girls; I won’t put them through the torture of dying while watching me continue to party. Besides, having them with me was enough of a birthday present in itself.
As I turn and head back towards Hollywood Blvd., leading my pack of pretties back to my place, I hear Persian Princess scream from behind me, “HEY BROWNIEEEE!!! BROWNIE COME HERE!!!!” Turning around, I see Persian Princess excitedly and frantically motioning for me to come back, as she stands and holds onto some guy standing outside of the club. Walking back towards her, I see she’s standing next to a 5’11, pale-skinned, blonde-haired, GRAY-EYED, GREEK GOD of a beautiful body, wearing a tight white t-shirt, ADIDAS mesh pants, and flip flops. What the fuck? That is the sexiest homeless man I’ve ever seen in Hollywood.
The rest of the girls stop, turn, and begin to follow and circle around me. Confused and creeping up slowly, I walk up to my friend and this blonde beauty, as Persian Princess shakes his arm and demands, “Say it! Tell her! Tell her! Tell my friend!” Looking dead into my eyes with cool calm confidence, the super hot homeless man says,
Him: Hello gorgeous, my name is Fifty Shades, and I’m looking for casual sex tonight.
Me: (Holy shit your name is what?) *without hesitation and thrusting my hand out to shake his* WELL HELLO SIR!! It’s my birthday. I love casual sex. Do you always stand outside of the club and say this to girls in your pajamas in hopes that that awful line will actually work? Cuz that’s pretty fuckin creepy of you man…
Him: *gray eyes still dead-locked on mine* Ha no, Ma’am, I do not, just to you *licking his lips and now pulling my knuckles up to his lips to kiss them*
Me: *from zero to horny in .2 seconds flat, yet unfaltering* Haha…Well, Fifty Shades, I hope that line works for you on some OTHER girl tonight cuz it definitely isn’t gonna work on me. But good luck baby you’re beautiful I believe in you *placing my hand on his cheek, giving him an air-kiss and a wink before walking away*
Motioning for the girls to come follow, I confidently strut away as Persian Princess demands I stop and go fuck him really quick. As desperate and easy as I may sound at times, and as horny as fuck I am from this drug and the delicious way he licked his lips at me, there’s no way in hell I’m taking home a guy I met on the street! Who does that!?
As I’m explaining this to the girls, I hear a scream from behind me
Him: HEY BIRTHDAY GIRL!!!!!!!!!!!!
Me: *turning around and super turned on* Yessss, my dear?
Him: *smiling back at me with his hands on his hips, shaking his head* I’m not letting you go that easily!
Me: *unable to hide my own smile and blushing* Ha! I’m not fucking a guy I met on the street…!
Him: *still smirking at me, dropping his hands to his side with his palms open* Come on…you have to admire my persistence….
Me: (SOLD) Haha… *shaking my head at what I’m about to say, now biting my lip* Fifty Shades? You have THREE BLOCKS to convince me to let you come home with me tonight.
Without waiting for him to reply, I turn around and begin walking back, Fifty Shades running up to my side to catch up.
OK. So maybe I will fuck a guy I just met on the street.
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