it's all about last night's party.

It is definitely 8:24 in the morning. I am definitely just getting back to my room.

So last night I had these huge plans to go to three different parties. Lucky for me, I only had to go to the first party to call it a night.

For the quick overview, here is a list of my night:
Eastern European (Kiss)
Dem (Kiss... by the way he's not new to me, but he's just resurfacing since last year, now)
Italia (Make out)
The Grizzly (an Orgasm I'm still recovering from)

I guess all of that pent-up frustration just unleashed itself to the world. Last night there were so many options, I couldn't help myself from having a little taste of every thing. I left my room sober and ready to find someone to take out all of my frustration with Nik on. I put on a little black dress (and when I say little, think "Lindsay Lohan"), the hottest underwear I have, and just enough eyeliner to show that I meant business.

I headed straight to my favorite gentlemen's club, and was a little disappointed when I saw SO many girls. Never deterred, I first ran into Dem, short for "the Demoract," who is a guy that I had a serious crush on last year. He is absolutely adorable, incredibly sweet and understanding, and absolutely hilarious. I am pretty enamoured with him, and mildly disappointed he isn't the one I went home with, but that was only because of a misunderstanding. Not to mention, he's a virgin (and not because he's Catholic), and despite the fact that I am one too, I perfer guys with a little more experience - it usually makes for a munch better night all around. Anyway, I had a few drinks and got a little bold and we kissed for the first time - FINALLY - and sadly it wasn't the fireworks I had hoped for all through freshman year. A little sloppy, which might have been because he was drunk, and just too much tongue. Way too much tongue. Anyway, I was I was going to leave with him, but I didn't want Italia or EE to see me leaving with him (since they're both active persuits), so I told him to meet me somewhere in five minutes, I was just going to grab my coat.

It took me a little longer than five minutes. It was closer to twenty-five minutes, but hey, that doesn't mean I wasn't going to show up! I did, and I was disappointed, but not surprised he wasn't there. I had to fight through a crowd of people for my coat and I ran into a bunch of people that I know, so it wasn't my fault I couldn't get there in time. Okay, maybe I could have tried a little harder, and if there hadn't been so much tongue, I definitely would have tried a little harder.

I headed back inside and saw EE, and after a year of mutual flirtation, he kissed me. It was actually really really good. Like really, really, really good. It was at that second that I realized I should not leave with him. EE and I are really good friends and I like him too much, and in way too many ways to let anything happen. Not to mention, I would have been really upset if hooking up did ruin our friendship - which it would - and even more upset if he didn't like me as much as I like him. I freaked out and told him I had to go.

On my way out I pretty much had to choose whether I was going to go to another party, go back with the Grizzly, who had extended a pretty explicit invitation while we were dancing together, or Italia who I had seen a bunch of times and said he'd be ready to go when I was. Unfortunately, Italia was working the bar when I was on my way out. That made my decision for me, and I grabbed the Grizzly and ran.

Just because I left with the Grizzly, doesn't mean I didn't see Italia later.

When we got back to his room, I layed down the "no sex" rule, which he didn't care about. The kissing, good. The Feeling, good. The fingering, great. The oral, fantastic. I don't know if that's just how boys in the south do it, or what, but he didn't stop until I was finished, and with his hands he actually knew what he was looking for and what he was doing. Just thinking about it is kind of making me tingly.

There is a whole lot more to this story, and a whole lot more about my attempt at the perfect hand job (which I'm now thinking is impossible), but right now I'm about to pass out. Just to whet your appetite, there was a fire alarm, Italia, my shoes getting lost, and some of the best insights about hand jobs I've ever had.

Thank God for Saturday nights. I just wish they didn't always turn into Sunday mornings.

Oh, and did I mention that the oral was just fantastic? Good. Just making sure.