1. Eating Breakfast In Glass Slippers


    Date: 11/8/2014, Categories: Straight Sex, Author: TheScheherezadeFeint, Rating: 26, Source: LushStories

    officer is clearly impressed, the other is not, and begins shouting threats. One of the girls tries to convince them it was performance art. A brief exchange occurs, ending I think with the following statement: “Don't worry officer, it's performance art because I'm gay,” another string of fictional laws, along with Matt's and one of the girls' phone numbers for each cop. All I can do is try to recognize them, see if my dad's going to hear about this. They talk a couple more minutes, and Matthew slips him something. He looks to all of us, and someone grabs my hand. The next thing I know, we're leaving the building, but not in handcuffs. Half a smile works over my face, warping one side of it upward. - - - “So... That's what happened at the art museum...” Matt says, “Yes,”Jasmine says, “You decided to go home afterward and think about the things you do for 'art' and why you do them. A party didn't seem like what you needed.” “No. Doesn't seem like what I needed,” Matt puts his head down on the table. “Sorry, Matt.” “No, I did what I did. Gotta take responsibility for that. Look, I got their phone numbers and everything,” he says, showing us, each with pictures of their... decorated faces. “...Classy,” Jasmine says. “So, party?” Ursula asks. “What do you mean? It was your- Oh. Well you wouldn't remember, either, would you?” “What do you mean?” “Leaving the museum, you said something like 'I'll have a shot of whatever they're having', and Matt handed you something before he took ...
    off. I drove to the party by the way. I realize now because I'm the only one who wasn't high, but then, I'm a responsible adult.” “Hey now, quit fighting. I think the more important thing is, what happened at this party?” I interrupt. “Fine. We'll fight later.” “We will?” Ursula asks, with irresistible eyes. “We'll see.” “So?” “Well...” - - - “Where is this party, exactly?” I ask. “Close to home.” “Please, no,” I say, pretty sure that was the answer, passing the enormous, twisted white oak on the bend so familiar to me. “Oh relax,” Ursula says, “She's going to be twenty miles away.” “That wasn't my concern, but... Thanks,” I say, annoyed by the very notion of sharing myself with a bunch of jackasses around a keg right now. The car was gliding smoothly over the pavement until suddenly it wasn't, when Jasmine veered onto rough gravel at Ursula's gesture. The road zigs and zags, jagged. Maybe half an hour, an hour down this road, we turn a corner and reach a small dirt parking lot. Three massive bonfires duel on the hill over us, surrounded by at least a hundred people. Lots of plaid, jeans, boots and hats. Just like home. Jasmine makes an entrance, skidding to a halt, and sliding into place where. That was not cool. I am so dizzy now. The others disembark the monstrous vehicle but I stay a moment. “Ready?” Ursula asks me through the window. “Sure,” I say, getting out, and leaning against the side of her truck. “Jas and I are going to hook up with some of my old friends. Do you ...
«12...161718...2122»