Note- If you’re wanting to get straight to the action, I have some disappointing news. This story, or at least this part, contains a fair amount of build up that leaves the payoff to the next part. If you can live with that, please enjoy. I look forward to feedback. Also, I apologize if there are any editing errors. I’m transferring this from Google Drive and I did it myself.

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My friends give me a hard time about it every time we drink. I get a few beers in me, I start telling stories, next thing you know I’m knocking over my beer. And everyone else’s. I can’t help it. When I tell drunk stories, it’s not just words. Giant arm gestures are involved in pretty much every story I tell. Whatever, it’s not a big deal. Well, not usually.

My name is Michael. I’m nineteen and just entering my second year in college. I’m a marketing major (yeah, I know) with a minor in drinking, like most normal college students. I’m an inch or two under six feet and a pound or two under 170. I’m pretty athletic, spending most of middle and high school playing soccer and running track. I’ve never considered myself a jock, though, considering my spare time is usually spent reading comics or playing video games. Recently I took up social drinking, which I’m fairly good at. I’d say I’m about a 6.5 skill wise.

So, where is this story going? Well, my peer group is a mixed bag ranging from hardcore academics to scholarship athletes with a healthy dose of everything in between (where I sit). Whenever we hang out we tend to go to one of the three apartments in our group, avoiding the dorms and the frat houses. This particular story takes place at my friend Jake’s apartment.

I started my Friday with a pre-game at my apartment. Don’t be impressed, I share it with four other guys. So, my version of pre-gaming is drinking beer while playing Halo online. I drink each time I get killed. I’m pretty good, but obviously my reaction time will drop with each death. An hour in I had seven empties in front of me and I was feeling pretty buzzed. I decided to walk one street over to Jake’s and see who was there.

Now, my friends and I party like normal people, so we aren’t throwing a rave here. I walked into Jake’s place to some low music and and low lights. The living room had a group of six watching Archer on Netflix and playing some kind of drinking game. The kitchen table was occupied by eight more people playing Asshole, and the back room (where Jake and his girlfriend were) had a group of a dozen playing Cards Against Humanity. I settled down to enjoy a screwdriver and an awesomely offensive card game.

An hour later I was feeling pretty good. Jake and I had moved to the living room to find out the rules of the Archer drinking game, which turned out to be complex but worth it. Then the doorbell rang.

Everyone got really quiet really quickly. I doubt we had a single person who could legally drink. With some whispered conversation it was decided that I should answer the door since I never seemed as drunk as I actually was. Taking a deep breath, I cracked the door.

Spoiler: not cops. Standing at the door was a nervous looking short brunette holding a large book to her chest. To my surprise, I knew her.

“Holly?”

Looking up at me as I opened the door, Holly brazzers porno stared up at me in surprise. Understandable considering we had gone to high school together but hadn’t seen each other since graduation.

“Michael?” Hey, she remembered me.

“HOLLY!!!” Chloe, Jake’s girl, ran up and started hugging Holly. “I’M GLAD YOU CAME!” Yeah, she was basically screaming, and we had to calm her down a bit.

In the next few minutes I found out that Holly had transferred to our school at the beginning of the year and was in most of the same classes as Chloe. Holly was super quiet and solitary in class and wasn’t into parties of any kind, but Chloe had needled her over the last couple weeks and had finally convinced her to hang out. So here she was.

Grabbing Holly a Smirnoff (which she was surprised she liked), I explained to Jake and Chloe how Holly and I had gone to school together for most of our lives. Small, slightly inebriated world!

Fast forward through the party. The four of us do some shots (Holly only agreed after I promised to do two for every one she did), talked about our classes, and generally got drunk. A drunk, horny Chloe eventually dragged Jake to the bathroom for “secret reasons,” leaving me to make Holly feel comfortable, which took some work considering she was worried about getting drunk and embarrassing herself. Turns out we’d popped her alcohol cherry and didn’t even know it. Wish her first hadn’t been a Smirnoff Ice, but whatever.

To make her feel at ease, I started telling her all my most embarrassing alcohol stories. The time I pissed in my sister’s closet, the time I tackled a McDonald’s employee because he wouldn’t give me thirty Egg McMuffins, ect. I’ve found out over the last couple years that the best way to alleviate someone’s fear of getting drunk is telling them the worst stories you have. Somehow, it always makes them less scared of making fools of themselves.

Now, we finally get to the thing I said at the beginning of the story. When I tell a story, three out of five times I will knock over a drink. So, while Holly sits in her chair, I’m standing up describing how I ended up shaving my junk on a drunken bet. Her face is red, but she is laughing her ass off. And then, in one huge sweeping gesture, I knock what’s left of my Cape Cod (a drink, look it up) off the shelf and down her front.

I should give some info here. I had liked Holly a bit back in high school. She was pretty, wore glasses (which I love), and had a sweet, round ass. Not too big, not too small, just round with the right amount of plumpness. Unfortunately, things had never lined up for me to ask her out. When we met again a year later, she looked much the same. Same thick rimmed glasses, same shoulder length dark brown hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, same great ass. I noticed. The only thing that surprised me was that she was wearing a huge, baggy sweatshirt, which was the opposite of the stylish, body hugging outfits I fondly remembered from high school.

So, having had a thing for the girl, I was pretty mortified when I knocked a third of a glass of vodka and cranberry juice down her front. After a second of stunned silence, she took off like a shot towards the bathroom, dropping the huge book she’d been holding clip4sale porno all night. After allowing a few seconds for my alcohol addled brain to realize what I’d done, I followed.

Bursting into the bathroom after her (I was drunk, remember) I started stammering apologies immediately.

“Holly, I’m so sorry. I always do this. Let me help . . .” I trailed off at this point as I realized several things at once. 1- I followed a member of the female sex into a closed bathroom. 2 – She was for sure not going to appreciate the first thing. 3 – Holly had removed her sweatshirt to reveal a form-hugging white spaghetti strap top that barely held some truly impressive breasts at bay. I felt a twitch below my waist.

“Ummm, I have nothing to say in this situation. Help me out here.”

“What?! What are you doing in here?!”

I debated with myself, and decided to go with honesty. “Well, I was trying my hardest to apologize so that you didn’t hate me, but now I feel like we should address the elephants in the room.”

“You mean elephant, singular, right?”

“Nope.”

I realize that I should probably be getting slapped at this point, but instead she started laughing, which did some impressive things to her chest.

At a time like that, I know that a lot of guys might try to keep it cool and play coy. I’m not good at that even when I’m sober, so . . .

“Before you stop laughing and realize how pissed you should be, I want to know when those happened.” She tried to cover up her cleavage with her hands, but that just made the swell of her boobs bulge out beneath her arms. The last time I had seen her, Holly had possessed some nice tits, perky and everything, but no more than a B-cup for sure. Now I was staring down the barrels of some D or DD guns.

“Oh, geeze, . . . they started growing the summer after senior year. I was surprised, but my mom said that exact same thing happened to her. She said she was smaller to start, but she went from an A-cup to a D in a year.” Damn.

“Do you always hide them like that?”

“What makes you think I was hiding?”

“Uh, the huge baggy sweater and the giant book you had a stranglehold on all night only really make sense that way. I remember in high school you were always dressed super cute, and you weren’t afraid to show off your body.”

Considering her face was flushed from a mixture of embarrassment and alcohol, I would have doubted she could get any redder. But she could and did. I realized belatedly that I’d said she was cute or dressed cutely or something, and that I’d noticed her body. I decided to ignore it and keep moving.

“So . . .?”

She rolled her eyes. “So, since they started getting so big I’ve been embarrassed. I know guys like big tits, but that’s just it. I feel like it’s all I would be if they saw me walking around. A set of huge, bouncing boobs attached to some random girl. What?”

She asked what I was grinning about, so I said,”I’m sorry, considering we’re talking about important body image stuff, but the drunken male part of my brain is just loving your choice of adjectives.” The adjectives were going straight to my cock, which was starting to pay a bit too much attention to the conversation.

She laughed. I’m betting colette porno if she wasn’t pretty tipsy the conversation would have been much angrier. Or maybe there would have been no conversation, just a knee in the balls. But it was working out well so far.

“You are a dick.”

“Not false. But, in addition to that, I’m drunk and honest. And, to be honest, I think you, and your breasts, look great. Hell, I liked you before . . . .umm.” Man, I just keep saying stuff. Whatever.

Apparently she was alright with what she heard. Her hand reached out and played with the bottom of my shirt. Hello. “You liked me? When? Earlier tonight?”

All or nothing. “No, back in high school. Before the . . . growth spurt. I wanted to ask you out for years but you were dating someone or I was dating someone. Timing sucked.”

Holly smiled. Really big. Woohoo! I said something right. Her eyes fluttered behind her glasses (so hot) and she pulled me a little closer by my shirt.

“Can I tell you something?”

I nodded dumbly.

“I liked you back then, too. I didn’t think you would ever be into me, though.”

“What, did you think I was gay?”

“Haha, no. But you were always dating tall blondes with big tits. You couldn’t get much farther from me. At the time, at least.”

I thought for a second and realized that was kinda true, but mostly by accident, which I told her. “It just ended up that way, babe. I’m not into blondes or boobs or feet or anything. I’m into the whole package.”

More smiles. I can admit that I can normally be fairly charming, but I had a feeling that this was less my charm and more mutual attraction. Whatever works, right?

Holly giggled. “Speaking of packages . . .” Her hand moved from my shirt to the top of my jeans, the tips of her fingers sliding into the top of my boxers, making me pretty happy I’d tucked my dick up into my waistband earlier. She pulled me towards her. A take charge kind of girl makes me rock hard, I have to tell you.

I bent my neck to meet her in a hot, deep kiss. No hesitation, no tentative pecks, just deep, passionate snogging, to use a British term. She was almost a foot shorter than me, so I did have to bend down a fair bit, but that put me in the perfect position to grip her sweet ass.

“Ummmmmm . . .” She moaned into my mouth as I squeezed her plump rump. She moved closer, rubbing her jean covered mound against my crotch.

I moved over to sit on the toilet, pulling her on top of me at the same time. Her legs straddled mine so she could continue rubbing against me. I ran my hand up and down her back as I squeezed her butt harder.

“Ummm, cough cough.”

We stopped. The shower curtain pulled aside to reveal Chloe and Jake, or as I now refer to them, the Cock Block Bunch. Considering the state of their clothing, I think we might have interrupted something when we came in.

“Sorry, but we wanted to get out of here before anything . . . carnal happened.” Hand in hand, the two of them stepped around us and opened the door. As the door closed behind them, I heard Chloe say to Jake, “See, I told you they’d be perfect for each other.”

Holly started laughing, which caused vibrations to run through her body and straight to my penis. I groaned.

Looking me in the eye, Holly said, “Do you mind if we come back to this? It’s a little weird now.”

I laughed. “Yeah, it’s fine. As long as it’s “To Be Continued” and not “The End.””

Her smile turned sensual. “This will definitely be continued.”

TO BE CONTINUED