it's 9:30pm on New Year's Eve and April is already so drunk she can barely feel her face. She's lying on the pile of coats in Sharon's guest room, praying for the room to stop spinning. A strange man is trying to finger her pussy, but he is too high to get his fingers under her lace panties. He just keeps groping between April's legs and swearing. It doesn't feel amazing, but it doesn't feel bad.
"I will never get this drunk again," she swears out loud to whatever god might be listening.
The man lying next to her says amen right before he manages to get his fingers under her panties.
"Damn, baby. Your pussy feels so good."
April lets her legs fall wide open as a stranger eagerly fingers her cunt.
"Thanks," she replies. What else can she say?
Sharon saves her from getting boned by the coats guy. She pulls April's panties up and says, "Have some self-respect, April. You can't just give it away to any loser."
But she's wrong. April has been giving it away to losers for a year now. It started as sowing her wild oats after being left by her long-time boyfriend. Then it just became a thing to do. After years of saving her pussy for her true love, she went to the other extreme and fucked any guy that showed interest. She wanted to feel in control. Powerful.
She doesn't feel powerful in her wet panties and ready to pass out before midnight.
"I need to have some self-respect," April vows. "New Year, new me."
Sharon's brother and his college friends are on the balcony, smoking a joint. April joins them, eager to be even more out of it. April is only two years out of college, but it feels a world away. How she misses those innocent days, when she could only fuck her boyfriends when her roommate was in class or away for the weekend.
The days of having the door open to her room and her roommate's shocked face while some pretty boy had his face (or cock) buried in April's pussy. How she dreaded and lived for those moments. The delicious shame. The way her roommate seemed less and less shocked each time it happened. She and Anne roomed together all for four years. Anne saw as much of April as any of her boyfriends.
There's no one to walk into April's current apartment to catch her getting railed by some bar hook-up.
The college boys circle April like wolves, their hungry eyes all over her body. She's wearing a tight, short dress. Her tits are ready to fall out of her top. The dress was borderline slutty to begin with, but now that April is wasted and the dress has been tugged out of place, her tits are now obscenely on display, the nipples barely concealed.
The boys surround April and pass her joints and press solo cups of alcohol to her lips while their hands explore. They start with bumps and near accidental touches that become more bold when they realize April has no limits.
Hands cup her breasts, pinching her nipples through her dress, Fingers rub her clit and pussy lips, sliding inside her, A wet finger presses against her asshole as she takes a deep drag from a grape flavored blunt.
April is laid down on a cold wooden bench on the balcony, and eager hands pull her legs apart. She stares up at the starry sky as the fat, blunt head of a cock presses against her cunt.
"She's so fucking wet," some stoner dude moans as he pushes into April, talking like she isn't there even as he fucks into her.