Amanda and Nat are stuck in their apartment alone tonight watching the Sex and the City movie and eating ice cream. Their respective boyfriends, Oliver and Matt, are out with their friends Tom and Godfrey and Lee and Stoker and Phil and a bunch of other coworkers, probably at a strip club and being idiots and generally partaking in drunken douchebaggery. Thus, here these two girls are, having their girl time and watching their chick flicks and eating their ice cream.
Amanda is sort of thinking. One of the characters in the film is having a similar problem to her, and, well, she wants to ask Nat for advice. Amanda puts her ice cream down on the table.
"Nat, can I talk to you about something?" Amanda asks hesitantly.
"Of course," Nat says. She places her ice cream next to Amanda's. "What's eating you?"
"Well, that's the problem," Amanda murmurs. "It's Oliver. He's... eating me out really, really badly."
Nat actually laughs. "Y'know, for some reason he always looked to me like he's good with his tongue."
"He's not," Amanda declares, shaking her head. "He's horrible. Oh my god."
"Why's he so bad?" Nat asks, simply out of curiosity.
"I don't think the man knows where my clit is," Amanda says flatly. "I need a drink."
Nat laughs, getting up. "I know where Matt keeps the good wine," she teases, smirking.
"Just bring the bottle," Amanda groans. Nat nods, walking into the kitchen in her heels. Amanda sort of notices Nat looks pretty hot tonight for staying in. She's wearing a pretty tight dress, about knee-length and low-cut. Amanda feels underdressed in her jeans and one of Oliver's band t-shirts.
Nat returns with a freshly-opened bottle of wine. Amanda takes it from her grasp, immediately chugging the entire neck of the bottle. "Fuck," she coughs, when she finally pops off. She passes the bottle back. "The fuck is that?"
"No idea, but it gets Matt drunk and horny," Nat laughs, taking a swig.
"Last thing I need to be is horny," Amanda mumbles. "I'll have to spend a little time with my battery-powered boyfriend."
"Nice," Nat replies, passing the bottle. "I'll be sure to get you a pack of batteries for your birthday, then."
"I need to get laid by someone who isn't shit in bed," Amanda sighs, chugging. She's already starting to feel the booze hit her. "Shit," she breathes.
"I'm not shit in bed," Nat remarks, smirking. Amanda laughs, the alcohol starting to thin her blood.
"Oh yeah?" Amanda asks.