Now the party in question started at ten o’clock, as most do in our college town. A few beers, some snacks and laughing, and the occasional make out session, and things just progressed from there. I showed up with my lesbian roommate Sara, who loves teasing all of the men with her tight fitting low rise jeans and skimpy tank tops. Who wouldn’t stare at her petite and tight body? She’s probably the hottest swim team players we have, with her six pack and full C cup tits. I’ve often suspected she wears a size C so it squashes things into visually pleasing jiggle. Hell, even the women ogled her (as did I, admittedly.) We both grabbed a drink and marched outside to see if anyone was playing chef on the barbeque.
“Hey ladies! Want me to slip you a sausage? I’ve got something ready to go now,” Mark the current chef leered with a beer in one hand and grilling tongs in the other.
“Ugh. Mark, you’re a real pig. You know that? Just give me a burger,” Sara requested.
“I’ll take a thick Italian sausage. I guess that leaves you out Mr. Chef.”
“Ouch. That was uncalled for. I’m just a simple cook!” Mark said, playing innocent.
“Nice one Ariel!” Sara slaps my ass, and continues: “Glad you have standards of who can hit that.” She gives my right cheek a squeeze and winks as she wanders off towards the hot tub and bikinis, burger in one hand with beer in the other.
I don’t usually get many good one liners in, so I even impressed myself with that one. Maybe tonight I’ll let loose and get to join in on some of those later party stories after all. “Try not to bring home too many girls tonight, will you? I have some homework to do tomorrow!”