Restless (Drunk Girl's Fantasies Short Story One)

RESTLESS

Drunk Girl
’
s Fantasies

Short Story
One

Copyright © 201
2 by Lily Evans

Cover design by
Lily Evans

Amazon Edition, License N
otes

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This book is a work of fiction.  The characters and events portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.   Any similarity to real person, living or dead is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. 

A
shley, Georgia and Hailie, three friends who on a night filled with too much tequila lay it on the line.  Each writes down a fantasy.  Something they would never do on their own…

But with each
other’s help, they might just do anything
!

I
knew one day that drinking was going to get me into a shitload of trouble and boy was I right.  I’ve done some crazy stuff in my life, especially when I’ve been loaded up with top-shelf tequila, but this was the craziest, the worst, and the most embarrassing.  And no matter what I thought of my friends, I never thought that they would hold me to something that was done after one too many shots. 

Never. 

Boy was I wrong.

I shared way too much with my best buds and they took full advantage.  They wanted me to get out of my shell after a crappy year of break-ups and loss of job promotion, etc. etc.  I just wanted to be numb for the night. 

And this is where it gets me…

“
Girl, you have to get out there now.”  Hailie pokes her head through the curtain near the side of the stage and adds, “The crowd’s getting restless.”

“None of you told me that when I wrote this down on a piece of paper that I would be dancing around a stripper pole in the busiest club in Nashville.”  I hiss through clenched teeth, the color high on my cheeks.  I glance down at the miniscule bra/skirt thingy I’m being somewhat forced to parade around in in public.  It’s gorgeous and it better be, it cost me a
bloody
fortune and it took me two weeks to finally pick something out.  A sheer black ruffled bodice with deep red ribbons, trim, a matching sheer ruffled thong and fuck- me shoes.  Five inch black patent leather one inch platform glittery strappy sandals that I can barely stand in let alone dance on a stage and swing from a pole.  Basically I’m naked, which is not acceptable.

At least not normally. 

Crossing my arms over my chest, I glare at my two best friends suddenly second-guessing everything.  Life, love, pole dancing, and most of all, tequila.  I’m beginning to think that it’s spawned from the devil himself, along with my damn friends.

“You’re the one that wrote it on your slip of paper.”  And just in case I forgot, Hailie holds up that same said slip of paper and waves it delightedly in front of my face.  I roll my eyes.  Other than cursing loudly and drawing more undo attention to myself, that’s about all I can think of.  She lifts her brow in amusement.  “So don’t go blaming me, chica.”

My nostrils flare slightly as I purse my lips, which is only turning my lacquered mouth into a more enticing picture.  “Why do I have to go first?” 

“Number one, Georgia’s fuck fest pick is out of town right now and number two, I’m working up my nerve.”

I snort. 

Georgia’s eyes travel to my ample breast so I glance down to observe a generous amount of my cleavage and puckered nipples showing through the sheer fabric.  “You’re turned on by the whole thing already.”  Why she feels the need to bring that up is beyond me. 

I blink and squirm.  I’ll deny with my last dying breath that the sheer material between my legs is soaking wet.  “Am not ya bitches.”  I tug on my might-as-well-not-be-there skirt, but to no avail.  My ass is still hanging out for all the world to see.

Hailie releases her grip on the curtain with a chuckle.  “You promised us that once you finished your lessons, you would do a dance in front of a real crowd.  Not just in front of a bunch of homemakers trying to add a little excitement to their lives bitch.”

“
Ohmygod!” 
Leaning down with my hands on my knees with my head practically between my legs I take several deep breaths feeling sure that I’m going to pass out at any second.  Rising up quickly, I get a little dizzy but right myself with outstretched arms as if I’m on a balance beam.  “I can’t do it.”

“Yes you can, Ash,” Hailie encourages.  “You can do anything you want.”

“You’re not just doing this for you, you’re doing this for all us,” Georgia pipes in encouragingly.  She reaches out and grabs for one of my hands, squeezing it tightly with her red-tipped talons.  “Just remember, girl, it’s only three minutes of your life and then you can say fuck off to anyone and everyone.” 

I have to grin at that.

“Yeah,” Hailie agrees.  “You said you were restless.  Tired of your boring existence.  Wanted to try something wild and crazy…”

I quickly cut her off with a growl.  “I was fucking drunk on who knows how many tequila shots.”

“Top of the line tequila shots,” Georgia adds with a shit-eating grin and thousand dollar shoes.

“Damn.”  I let out a deep, gut wrenching sigh.  Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath.  My almost D cup sized breasts rise and fall rapidly.  I just know I’m going to hyperventilate any second.   If they pop out while I’m twisting around on the pole, I’m going to die.  I put a hand on each of my breasts just to confirm they are being firmly held by the material.  That is, if it can really be called that.  “Is it crowded?”  I am not sure why I bother to even ask, I can hear the loud chatter, hoots, and hollers all the way back stage.

“Fuckin’ packed,” Hailie cries with glee.  “And there are some hot-assed guys right smack-dab in the front.”

“I’m gonna die!” I screech wobbling on my heels.  “And if say for a laugh I don’t fucking die out there, I’m going to break a fucking ankle on these damn stilletos.”

“No you’re not, sweetie,” Georgia encourages as she places the red sequin Mardi Gras type mask over my head and proceeds to fluff my long almost black large roller curled hair to extreme heights.  “Fuckin’ hot!”

“Yeah, but what a way to go.”  Hailie laughs.  “Definitely look fuckin’ hot!”  She punches my abs lightly.  “Those classes are paying off.  Your body is fuckin’ tight.  Steel fuckin’ abs to die for!  Real ginormous tits and abs of steel.”  She crosses her arms over her chest.  “So not fair.”  She shakes her head.  “I’m firing my personal trainer when Monday rolls around.”

I roll my eyes at Hailie’s copious use of the ‘f’ word.  “You don’t have a personal trainer, babe.”

“Fuck, that must be what my problem is.”  Hailie smiles, slapping her thigh, bent over at the waist like she just told the funniest of jokes.

“Ha, ha,” I reply with sarcastic undertones.  I can’t deny I feel hot.  I love the outfit I ordered online and the mask.  My hair even looks surprisingly hot.  All I desire now is one extra something to put the extra oomph in my attitude.

Georgia lays her hand on my arm and her voice goes soft.  “If someone wants to take you home are you going to let them?” 

“You’ve got to be shitting me?”  I yell loudly wanting to make sure my two best friends hear me loud and clear.  “There’s no fucking way I’m going home to fuck a perfect stranger.”

“Even if he’s super out of this world hot?”  Hailie clarifies as if I would walk out the door with some homely man. 

I snort aloud.  There’s only one man that I find
super out of this world hot,
and he’s not gonna be here to see me dance.  So…I mean really just thinking of him sends tingling sensations of heat to places left unsaid—especially since there’s no one around to ease said aches except for myself and my little drawer buddy.  So depressing.  And I do look hot.  Smoking hot.  I’m gonna keep repeating it in my head over and over again like a goddamn mantra. 

I sigh deep.  I hate men.  No I don’t, I love men.  I just want one of my very own.  God, now I sound like that crazy girl on that cartoon with all the animals. 
I’ll hug you and squeeze you and make you my very own. 
It’s enough to make me shudder. 

Hailie and Georgia give each other looks that I don’t like.  “If he’s hot, she’s gonna give him some of that.”  Hailie waves her hand in front of me encompassing my entire person.

“Right now I hate both of you guys.” 

“No you don’t.” Hailie chuckles, her gaze turning serious.  “You need this.  You need to feel hot and special and wanted.”

She is right.  This past year was kinda rough.  I take that back.  It was like someone had scraped my entire body with the highest grade sandpaper for months leaving me raw.  Catching my husband fucking some random chick in our bed was just the tip of the iceberg.  And when I say random, I mean random.  The fucking bastard had just met her at the convenience store down the street from our house before bringing her home to stick his dick in her on our bed. 

I had mistakenly thought everything was great with us.  Boy was I ever wrong.  Turns out he’d been having random hookups from day one.  First thing I did was toss him out on his ass, change the locks, hire an attorney, and divorce his cheating ass.  That left me in my staid suburban two-story white stucco ‘dream’ house alone. 

I know this little stunt is going to extremes, but when we sat down a few weeks back and got completely wasted in my cavernous, empty, vanilla living room we had all written down an outrageous deed or dare we would do if we could do anything in the world with no consequences and this is what I wrote down.  That’ll teach me to not drink so damn much and what do these chicas do?  They hold me to it no questions asked.  No arguments.  There is not a damn thing I can do about it now. 

Now for the gorgeous lady in red.  Daredevil!

My body freezes, a cold sweat breaks out over my upper lip and I begin to groan as I hear my name for the night being called over the loudspeaker.  Why the fuck am I doing this?  Because I need to feel empowered again, that’s why.

Georgia hands me a shot of tequila and I down it quickly.  My eyes watering as it goes down fast. 

“You go girl.”  Hailie slaps me on the back and Georgia puts her hand on my mid-back pushing me up the stairs.  Taking one more glance over my shoulders, I glare at them both. 

Fuck.  Here goes nothing.

Oh God!

I stumble, barely catching myself as I sweep through the curtains on the beat of
Def Leppard’s Pour Some Sugar On Me
blaring though the loud speakers and stare out into a sea of shouting, smiling, drunk men with just a smattering of women in the crowd. 

I stop, after taking a deep breath a mysterious smile spreads across my face.  None of these people know who I am.  I’ve got a mask and I’m hot, just as Hailie said. 
Fuck ‘em.  Fuck every last one of ‘em.
 

Strutting out, I run my hands up and down my sides, running my tongue over my lips I instinctively spin.  With my back to the crowd, I look over my left shoulder and catch
his
eye and I want to run off the stage when his gaze rakes over my body from the top of my head down to the five inch heels covering my dainty feet and back up again only pausing briefly on my best asset, my tits.   Reluctantly he lifts his gaze back to my eyes while all the while removing what little bit of clothing I’m still wearing with his gorgeous piercing blue ones.