Entry 7: Drunk Distractions

We drove down the back streets of Las Vegas Blvd. The car bounced lightly, and in my drunken state, the city lights blurred together. A hand clenched my chin; he kissed me. Our tongues slapped together; I gently bit his lip while rubbing his crotch.

He pulled my hair then kissed me. I mounted him. His fingers grazed my thighs as his hands moved beneath my dress. We kissed again. I could feel him getting hard; then, as usual, words invaded my thoughts.

AIDS! I shook my head hoping the word would fall out.

I unbuttoned his jeans sticking my hand down his pants, syphilis, herpes, whore!

I wrapped my fingers around his thick cock, gonorrhea! Whore! Whore! Whore!

The car jerked forcing my eyes open. I wasn’t in a passionate sexual embrace. Instead, I was in an SUV surrounded by five women. This was my sister’s bachelorette party.

The liquor made me randy, but I was a sexually repressed adult, so I took a breath and searched for a distraction. Then, I caught a glimpse of the Cameroon flag dangling from the rearview mirror.

Who was our Lyft driver? What stories does he have to tell? Where has his journey taken him?

I would have sought the answers, but the last shot of vodka was hitting me. The car suddenly stopped, and all six of us spilled onto the driveway of our hotel.

I now had a new distraction, how to get six drunk and semi-drunk women back to the hotel room.

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