I knew it was going to be an insane weekend when Chris started handing out the magic mushrooms even before we were on the Sea To Sky Highway.
“Are you fucking crazy?” Jas said. “You want to drive to Whistler stoned on mushrooms?”
“Well I thought I’d save the E for later, but if you’d rather do it now…” Chris said, flashing that shit-eating grin of his, as we crawled along in bumper-to-bumper traffic.
It was spring break, and every student who couldn’t afford to go to Mexico was probably in the same line of cars, headed for Whistler. Jas’ parents have a time-share there, and he had offered to let us stay there, as reward for getting through the better part of our freshman year of university.
The plan was simple: spend three or four days hitting the slopes, drinking, smoking dope and – hopefully – getting laid. Jas was the only one who was certain of getting laid. His girlfriend, Sindi, was with us. Lucky bastard. Sindi is this sweet exotic East Indian girl with luxurious long hair, cute face and world-class ass.
We choked down the mushrooms with vodka mixed with orange juice. That and beer, drugs and pizza would become our staples for the next three days.
Turns out the mushrooms were good idea. It was snowing, which would be a good thing for us, once we got onto the slopes. But it had slowed the traffic down to a miserable crawl, so the mushrooms. Vodka and B.C. bud combined to make an otherwise miserable trip into an adventure.
We were wrecked when we got there, and all headed for the slopes completely fucked up.
Later, Chris and I went in search of women, while Jas and Sindi went back to the chalet to fuck their brains out.
There was no shortage of women, and we ended up dancing off the stone. By the end of the night, we were exhausted, drunk, and horny. Three girls Chris and I had hooked up with came back to the chalet with us, but didn’t stay long. Right away Chris started putting the moves on one, and when she rebuffed him, he went to work on the two others. That was enough to turn them off, and they left.
“Nice work, horndog,” I said. “I was getting in solid with that blonde. Now I’m going to have to go fuck a snowbank.”
“Here,” Chris said, and handed me a bong. “Fuck this.”
The mouth of the bong was, in fact, just about the right size for my cock. I took a hit, and nearly passed out.
“Fuck I’m wasted,” I said, collapsing on the couch.
“Me too,” Chris said, sprawling on the floor in front of the fireplace. “I’m probably too wasted to get it up anyways.”
He was wearing sweats. He pulled his waitband away from his hard, flat stomach, and directed a question to his pubic region.
“What do you say, Norm?”
I caught a glimpse of lumpy flesh in a nest of blonde hair.
“Norm’s dead.”
“Nothing some mouth-to-mouth wouldn’t cure,” I said.
“You volunteering?” Chris mumbled.
“Sure. You show me how it’s done, and I’ll get right on it, bitch.”
Chris snickered stupidly, and poured beer directly on his face, some of which made it into his mouth.
I stumbled to the bathroom to take a piss. As I shook the last few drops from my cock, it started to stiffen.
When you are 18 years old, drunk, and away on vacation after a long hard semester, a mild breeze can give you wood.
When I got back to the living room, Chris was unconscious. Sprawled on the floor with beer bottles all around him is a pose Chris assumes often. I worry about him sometimes. He’s a good friend, but he is self-destructive. Everyone in university drinks too much, but Chris worse than most. He drinks until he passes out, and often mixes a lot of different drugs. Tonight he had taken more mushrooms, smoked a pile of dope, and swallowed a handful of valium. That was on top of all the booze he had drunk. No wonder he can never keep a girlfriend. Girls like him because he is handsome and outgoing, and he’s a little bit dangerous. He gets laid often enough, but only the really skanky ones stick with him for very long.
It was three in the morning. I was exhausted, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to crash just yet. I was still wired from the drugs, and I was starting to feel sore already from the snowboarding. I decided to go see if the sauna and whirlpool in the condo complex was still open.
I padded out into the night with a towel and a beer, and used the chalet key to let myself in. I had the whirlpool to myself.
I eased myself into the water and let the warmth soothe my aching muscles. Apropos of nothing, I began to get hard. What the hell? I thought, and slipped my swim trunks off.
My cock looked magnified in the water. It looked the way I wished it did: big. My cock is average sized. I began masturbating. But I became self-conscious. There was no one in the whirlpool room but me, but I felt exposed nonetheless. And what if someone walked in?
