not-the-nozzle:The new watering hole was certainly addictive, she reflected. Somehow she’d e
not-the-nozzle: The new watering hole was certainly addictive, she reflected. Somehow she’d ended up there every night this week, blowing off homework and chores just to fill a bar stool, listening to the no-name live bands and soaking in the ambiance and getting pleasantly wobbly before tottering home. And she vaguely remembered being flat, dressing to cover her body, and never, ever chatting in a loud, slurred voice with the hot guy on the stool next to her. Had that only been a week ago? Seemed like years. Well, what the fuck ever, right? Stopping to snap a selfie because she just looked so fuckin hot in the mirror, she strutted out into the cool of the evening, looking forward to seeing… whoever the hell was going to be on stage, it didn’t really matter so long as they were loud and she could shout along with the hooks. Maybe tonight if she got enough drinks bought for her, she would lead that cute guy out around back and let him get a closer look at her tits… -- source link