This isn't a fictional story. It's something real--something I've carried around for years. I have never shared this story with anyone. Sharing it makes my chest tighten with shame, but I know I'm not alone. I'm sure there are many women out then that have experienced something similar.
Just so you know, I wasn't some wild child chasing sexual adventures. Honestly, trouble just seemed to find me. Some times it felt like I had a slut sign pinned on my back. And this time, wow, it got messier than usual.
So, picture me in my early twenties, I was kid-sized (barely105 pounds), with a tight little body that drew a lot of attention. I was told by guys that I had a nice pair of breasts and an ass to die for. So I used my gifts to my advantage.
Back then alcohol was a big part of my social scene. Parties, dates, even casual hangouts--it was like liquid courage for someone as quiet as me. At my size, one drink flipped a switch. Weekends blurred into late nights, filled with bad decisions. I'd wake up cringing at foggy memories: kissing someone I barely knew, dancing recklessly, saying things I'd never say when sober, and even waking up next to strangers. Still, I brushed it off. Everyone my age did dumb stuff, right?
Looking back now, at the stuff I did--yikes. I wince at how many dumb decisions I stacked up so fast.
Drugs weren't really my thing. I'd seen friends pop pills or pass joints, but I always said no. Until one night when I let my guard down and tried something. It turned out to be the last time I did.
=====
I had recently broken up with a boyfriend and was feeling down and somewhat depressed. My friend Caroline, always the impulsive one, showed up at my door unannounced. "We're crashing a party tonight," she declared, waving a crumpled invitation from some guy she'd met at a coffee shop.
Under normal circumstances, I'd refuse showing up to a stranger's house uninvited. But my self-worth had taken a nosedive, and Caroline insisted this was "therapy." For women, this is a nice way of saying, 'You need a good fuck to forget your ex.' Having no better plans and hoping this would boost my low self-esteem, I agreed.
I quickly changed into something sexy and daring before leaving.
When we got to the party, it was obvious that it was a frat party. It was one of those large old houses that had been converted into a frat house. The music was loud enough to be heard from down the street.
The atmosphere was electric, and quests were drinking and smoking marijuana. We quickly noticed there were many more guys than girls. I estimated the ratio of guys to girls was about three to one, maybe more. Caroline and I were soon inundated with guys and free drinks. As the party went on, the house got more crowded, with people shoulder to shoulder everywhere.
Since we didn't know anyone, Caroline and I decided to play it safe and stick together, you know safety in numbers. But that plan fell apart quite early. Within an hour, as we were both starting to feel the effects of the alcohol, Caroline met a guy and, before I knew it, she had disappeared into the crowd, leaving me on my own to deal with the chaos.
I tried texting her, but my phone didn't have any reception. I was surrounded by a wild pack of frat boys zeroing in on me, and, I was well aware that I was the only girl in a drunk boy-circle. I was caught up in what I can only describe as a whirlwind of risky fun.
The mood in the room was electric, and I could feel the excitement that surrounded me as these boys engulfed me. They were flirtatious, playful, and definitely bold. I was the centre of their attention and I was enjoying myself.
After a couple of more drinks, I started feeling loose and carefree. Being the only female in this circle of boys, it was quite apparent that I was the prey and these guys were like a pack of starved wolves. All of the guys were competing with one another in attempting to flirt with me. I, being flirtatious myself, was enjoying being the focus of all this attention.
Some of the men were definitely cute, and their flirting was flattering.
I'd made up my mind that tonight was about letting loose. No overthinking, no guilt, maybe a few drinks, and if the right person crossed my path, well... why not? Men did it all the time. Why shouldn't I flirt, laugh, or chase a little reckless fun to drown out the ghost of my ex? After all, these were strangers--guys I probably would never lay eyes on again.
My outfit screamed confidence. A silky low-cut top with spaghetti straps, a mini denim skirt short enough to make my legs look endless, and high-heeled wedged shoes to add a swagger to my step. No bra, no apologies. My outfit was meant to be sexy and suggestive.
I felt powerful and sexy, enjoying the attention my revealing outfit provoked. The compliments and appreciative glances did nothing but build my confidence, and I was loving the thrill of it all.
The more guys gawked at me, the harder my nipples became. As I have said many times already, my nipples always betrayed me. I could feel my rigid nipples poking into my skimpy top, and from the looks I was getting, I could tell that everyone else noticed them. It didn't help that the room was crowded and that the boys surrounding me were "accidentally" brushing up against me--or more accurately, touching up against my breasts.
Throughout the bantering and flirting, one of the guys in the group placed a small pill in my hand. I initially declined. I had learned to just stick with alcohol. No way!
But the boys were persistent. They said over and over again, it would give me a great high--the feeling of a lifetime.
"Just try it," they said. "You'll relax." My head felt fuzzy from vodka, and that voice in my gut--the one that whispers stop--drowned in the noise. Feeling careless I caved to the pressure and popped the pill into my mouth on a dare.
It was small, the smallest pill I ever took, a fraction the size of an ordinary pill. 'What harm could it do?' I thought. But a few minutes after I swallowed it, I could feel the pill taking effect. The combination of the pill and the alcohol hit me hard. Maybe it was just what I needed, a reason to throw caution aside and live it up without regret for one night.
Before long, the room was spinning and I had two of the cutest guys at the party supporting me. Steffen was a junior, and Brandon was a freshman. Brandon was shy, and that was just so appealing to me. Keep in mind that during this period of my life, I had a fetish for young, virgin boys, especially the quite shy ones.
Standing there supporting me, one on either side of me, I noticed some groping was part of the deal. With their arms wrapped around my back, their hands extended around my waist, and they were holding me by pushing up my breasts. My breasts were on the verge of popping out of my top and every guy in that circle had their eyes on my cleavage hoping that they would.
The alcohol switch had been flipped and this didn't faze me in the least. I continue to hold onto them tight as I playfully grabbed their asses.
"Oh my, you two have lovely asses." I tease as I playfully squeezed them both.
At last, they plopped me down on a sofa, and the two men sat down on either side of me. I had lost all my inhibitions by now and was living in the moment. I flirted openly, teasing both of them and making it very obvious about what I desired.
Steffen leaned in and gave me a passionate kiss, which I followed up with a wet kiss for Brandon. I was in the excitement of it all. I could feel their hands exploring my body right there on the sofa in front of everyone. I was overwhelmed by the chaos, but showed no resistance.
Steffen slid one of my top straps off my shoulder and began kissing my shoulder. I felt both exposed and aroused as one of my nipples was playing hide and seek for the crowd. My sagging top was barely covering my breasts, and everyone noticed.
I stretched out my long, tanned legs and teasingly draped one of them over Brandon's lap, sitting to my right. He immediately began rubbing my thigh all the way up to my lace panties. The two of them were definitely getting me worked up and hot. I could feel myself getting wet with desire.
The crowd of partygoers had grown around the sofa. Guys were watching me with a hungry gaze in their eyes, probably waiting for one of my breasts to be exposed, if not already. Some even pulled out their phones to record the moment. I felt a rush of adrenaline and, being intoxicated, I was too far gone to care. I was putting on a show for them and I loved it, even though things were starting to get out of hand. The rest of the world beyond that sofa just melted away in that moment.
