(ill tag this when im not tired asf ((no i wont)) so read at ur own risk)
its hot, eighty-three at the absolute lowest. you stumble around the basement slightly, your eyes squinting through the dim light to look for an extra towel for yourself after some asshole spilled some of his beer down your shirt.
a hiccup nearly blackens your vision completely, and you have to stand still a few moments before continuing your search. music is blaring upstairs, and that regular fear you'd feel from searching a dim basement is dulled by the back door being slightly open and heat humming in.
"hey— [+], you find it-? oh." he follows your stumbling gait around the bend of the steps, his eyes a hazy red as he stops a few feet from you. he wordlessly chucks you one from a laundry basket, still warm from the dryer. you fumble it, your reaction time tempered with alcohol.
"clumsy fuckin' girl, aren't you?" he teased, somehow crossing those few feet faster than you could bend over for the towel. he picks it up, looking at your glazed eyes before taking it upon himself to start gingerly dragging the towel across your chest, where the drink spilled. ever respectful, he tries to convince himself that he's looking at the towel and following its path. he's not.
you tell him to fuck off, that you can do it yourself. he shushes you, his other hand keeping you in place by just barely resting on your hip. his eyes (which were already on your tits) pick up the slight change in your breathing.
"jus' let me help you. asshole wasnt looking where he w's going." he murmurs, the towel now, under his guidance, moving to the hem of your crop top and up under your bra. you have to bite your lip to keep from gasping.
his eyes snap up to yours when he notices your legs shifting closer together, your thick brown thighs squishing against each other.
"y'good?" when he sees your face, he can tell you're playing coy. he decides to play with you, too. "this towel ain't doin' shit. hold on."
he backs you into the nearest wall, softly. the towel now discarded where you last stood, and his tongue lapping at the remaining drops of miller light under your boobs. your right drops out of your bra, and he takes that opportunity to pop your nipple into his mouth. his hand on your waist grips you tighter, and his free hand goes down to your shorts.
"missed some, huh?" he mutters, now standing a bit taller and crouching only slightly to lick and suck your neck. he knew that wasn't beer that far up, just sweat. he liked that you didn't try to correct him. either from stark shock or extreme horniness.
your hand slides down the front of his pants, palming him through the front of his boxers. he's already leaking pre, and his tongue falters in the crook of your neck as he feels your hand rolling over his balls.
"yo! did you help her find the towels?" the host of the party peeks in through the back door, the music suddenly getting louder. he covers your mouth with one hand while pulling your shirt back down with the other, as your hand slips from his drawls and back to your side.
"..bro?" the host calls for his friend, only waiting another couple seconds before shrugging and turning to leave, shutting the door behind him. someone cannonballs into the pool outside, the music is muffled.
songs I dedicate to my poetic dove on a burlesque electric wire
. High on Heaven- Nessa Barrett
. Black Haired Madonna- Nessa Barrett
. Dumb and Poetic- Sabrina Carpenter
. Moulin Rouge- Nessa Barrett
. I'm Your Man- Leonard Cohen
. Hopelessly Devoted To You- Olivia Newton-John
. Black Beauty- Lana Del Rey
. High By The Beach- Lana Del Rey
. Love Looks Pretty On You- Nessa Barrett
. Video Games- Lana Del Rey
. Nothing Gonna Hurt You Baby- Cigarettes after sex
. Apocalypse- Cigarettes after sex
. West Coast- Lana Del Rey
. West Coast Prayer- Nessa Barrett
. Violets for Roses- Lana Del Rey
. Special To You- Nessa Barrett
. So American- Olivia Rodrigo
. Drop Dead- Olivia Rodrigo
