A Drunken Post

It’s about four o’clock in the morning right now.

I just got back to my dorm from going to a gay club, and I plan to go to another gay club next weekend, for Halloween. Woo, so much fun.

The first time I went to a gay club was earlier this month, and on that occasion I found myself dancing with a really cute guy from the metro whom I envied, for he shared himself with two young men and both wanted him.

Tonight, I became that boy.

First, I started making out with a Hispanic guy who had a ponytail, and then I dragged a black guy into it. After tonguing the Hispanic for a bit, I turned, not wanting to be selfish, to the black one, and alternated back and forth. They didn’t mind taking turns.

Then I saw a cute white boy, a college student whom I’d picked out early on but been too shy to approach. I beckoned him to me, but he seemed unsure, so I did it again. When he finally came, I abandoned the other two without a thought and started kissing him. I asked him several questions and was too intoxicated to understand the answers, but I certainly enjoyed the kissing.

I can pick who I want and do what I want.

I love the power in that.

When I was younger I despised people who gained things through their looks, but that was before I realized such standards would ever apply to me, and now I undertake to verify them with something bordering on vengeance.

I seized the white boy’s chin and made him kiss me. He complied.

I told him to wait while I used the bathroom, and he did.

Then, though, I got kicked out for being too drunk (I only had four, but there I am, 127lbs, and what’s to be done?), and spent the rest of the night bored and wasted and horny and hoping the white guy didn’t think I blew him off.

I can’t wait for next weekend.