One More Drink Please~

I do. I drain the glass, hand it back over to you, and rejoin the party.

“Drink,” you say some time later, handing me a shot.

And I do.

“Here,” you say later still, handing me a gummy. I pop it into my mouth before returning to my friends.

I’m relaxed and floaty. Sure, conversation may be flowing more easily than when I’m sober, but everyone’s drinking; surely no one suspects anything out of the ordinary.

You wordlessly hand me a glass as I pass by. I drink it quickly, eager to get back to my friends. Wow, that was strong.

I giggle. I’m having so much fun! You come over to check on me. Maybe I lean against you a bit too much, but nobody says anything. You drop another gummy in the palm of my hand, and I’m sooooo stealthy when I pop it in my mouth.

I’m feeling kinda spinny, but I play it cool. My friends are so awesome; have I told them how awesome they are? You hand me another shot on my way to the bathroom, and I have to pee so bad that I slam it back. Wow, that was really strong! And much bigger than I was expecting. I stumble off to the bathroom and have to hold onto the wall on the way back. I have a massive smile plastered on my face, and I can’t seem to wipe it off. I’m just having such a great time, you know? Nothing to see here!

Words are getting hard, but if I speak slowly and don’t talk that much, nobody will notice. See, my friends don’t suspect a thing. They’re tipsy, too, and we’re all having fun!

We’re sitting on the sofa now. Why? Well, we were getting tired of standing. It’s definitely not because I was having trouble staying upright. Sure, I don’t quite remember how we got here, but I know there’s no way I needed help.

You come back over to check on my again. I missed you! We’re having a great time! You tell me that people are talking about me, saying that I might have overindulged just a little...but there's no way! I haven’t had that much to drink…I’m practically sober! If I seem giggly, it's just because I'm having fun with my friends!

You give me another drink, right in front of all my friends. I'm a bit shocked--I thought the whole point was that all these drinks were supposed to be a secret--but hey, since I'm practically sober anyway, I'm sure no one will think twice of it.

It's a super yummy drink, too. I must have drunk it too fast, though, because now I have the hiccups. I'm not drunk, though! You don't have to be drunk to have the hiccups. Well...maybe I'm a little tipsy. Hey, why don't we cuddle a little? Not because my head's spinning or anything, just because...well, I like you.

Suddenly, everyone around us is laughing. I'm not quite sure why, but you tell me that they're laughing at...me? Why would they be laughing at me? I'm stone-cold sober. Yes, even despite the hiccups...and the giggling. I've only had one drink! Ok, maybe two. But that's it!

You tell me that I should prove that I'm sober by going around and convincing everybody. What a great idea! And if the room spins when I stand up, well, that's just because I've been sitting too long.

You take me around to all the guests so I can chat with them. And you know what? They all agree that I'm sh-sober! That means I'm still winning!

I giggle as I bump into a wall. Whoopsie! Was that wall always there?

You hand me another drink because I'm just so sober. It goes down so easy. You always take such good care of me...

"swallow" a cold and sharp order.

Because everyone likes her so much, her own generosity is returned tenfold. As much as she wants to eat, leftovers, and of course, drinks. And she does like to drink quite a bit. Her neighbors don’t know, but she’s usually a bottle of wine deep by the time she shows up—it just makes her joyful. If she has a beer or two while helping to set up, no one notices or cares, that’s expected. A couple more when the food gets served, of course. If she steps away to chug a beer in a private corner of someone’s yard, there’s too many people there for anyone to notice one missing.

When her neighbors notice is at the end of the night. She always winds up the same. Leaning onto a table, red faced, giggling. Top pulled low for air, so her deep cleavage shakes as she drunkenly laughs. Breasts pooled on the table. Can in hand, held loosely, almost forgotten until suddenly she needs more and guides it to her face, spilling down her chin.

Her neighbors fight for turns to walk her home. She can hardly stand by the end of the party, so she’ll lean on her helper and sway. She presses into them and giggles in their ear. Sometimes she asks for another drink for the road; some neighbors are eager to give her one or more, as many as she wants if she will let them escort her.

The neighbors who don’t feed her more drinks usually get her home, borrow her keys, and get her on her couch for the night. If you feed her more drinks, she won’t be able to find her keys by the time she gets home—she won’t be able to find her own extremities. Her personal favorite nights (she won’t share this) are the ones where she is just dumped onto her porch and she passes out on the porch swing, drunkenly snoring where the whole neighborhood can see her.