Midnight was a distant memory and the party was starting to wind down. Alone, you wandered into the den, discarded plastic cups and empty bottles littered the wooden floorboards, a painting hung at an angle but all in all the room was in pretty good shape. The remaining few revellers had retreated into the large living room down the hall, the rhythmic beat of the industrial music fuzzed through the walls. You guessed Emma was still in there and that other girl, Rosie was it? It was her house, a large creaking thing, perfect for this kind of party. You had been invited as Emma’s plus one, a last minute kind of deal. Normally you wouldn’t come to things like this, hell normally you wouldn’t receive an invite, but you were glad you came.
Emma had been your friend since grade school, you’d grown up together. As you got older she really got into her ‘Goth stuff’, it suited her. You’d tried the same a few years ago but it wasn’t for you so you left her to it. Still with so many things in common your friendship had remained close but was never more than just that. It was sort of an unspoken rule between the two of you, both were firmly rooted in the ‘friend zone’. You were happy with the situation; she’d had her boyfriends and you a few girlfriends and you’d always been there for each other when the inevitable break up happened. You and Emma were good, despite the fact that everyone else was sure something was going on.
Not that she wasn’t a good catch; her hair had been dyed black for as long as you could remember but in recent years she had shot it with bright green. You were more mainstream; a normal, unassuming guy if anyone was normal, a bit geeky perhaps but nothing out of the ordinary. You knew your type but you had to admit Emma was hot, even if just in a friend way. She was curvy in all the right places, smart, confident and had a wicked smile. Being a bit of a game geek also did wonders for her. In another universe who knew? In this one however you were just buds, an awesome duo. Besides you’d been chatting with that Rosie girl and had really hit it off, maybe there was something there? You’d definitely have to pursue that course of action.
That was earlier though and it was understandable, what with it being her party and all, that she couldn’t spend all night chatting to some guy she hardly knew. She’d excused herself, you watched her leave, and joined the rest of the black clad ranks. To be fair everyone you had met had been very nice. Goths get a bid of a bad rep for being moody but you’d had a lot of fun and a lot of drinks with the revellers of the night. You’d made some friends for sure and you knew that there would be more than one friend request waiting for you when you next went online.
The drinks however, they were catching up to you. You gripped the smooth neck of a bottle of microbrew beer; hipster as hell but fuck it, it was tasty, and walked unsteadily towards the large, black leather couch that spread beneath the closed curtains on the far wall. The beer was cool to the taste, refreshing and hoppy. You dropped heavily onto the sofa, spilling not a drop. The bottle was drained in a further two pulls before being discarded loosely to the floor. You were not a messy person by nature but that one extra bottle in here was not going to make much difference.
Your eyes drooped, threatening to close in the satisfying cool of the room. The main room where the music was had become a sauna powered by dancing bodies. Emma was one of them, gyrating seductively to the steady pounding beats that rose from the large speaker system. She must have scored tonight you guessed and that was cool with you. You were tired, coming pretty much straight from work, stopping off at your apartment briefly to change, you were ready to go home. She’d be fine here with the rest of her friends, with Rosie. You could call a cab home no problem and send her a text later. The address was saved in your phone. You were just about to dial the number when Emma burst in laughing.
‘Hey jerkface’, she smiled drunkenly, the two small, silver spheres that pierced her lower lip shone brightly against her black lipstick. She still danced to the memory of the music, arms high and twirling. Her tight, leather jacket, detailed with skulls was unbuttoned at the top exposing and extenuating her inviting cleavage. She closed the door with a swing of her hips and danced across the room to where you sat. ‘I knew I’d find you in here’, she laughed, ‘get bored of small talk?’
‘There’s only so long I can pretend to like your weird bands and low budget horror films, besides I’d have thought you would be on your back by now’, you teased.
‘Hey I’m not that drunk, you are way more gone than me’, she looked down as she unzipped her knee high platform boots. She slid her feet out slowly, clad in black tights with a spider web pattern and kicked the boots loudly to the floor. She stretched them out in a cat like fashion before her, sighing at their release from the humid confines of her heavy footwear. ‘Hey, fuck you asshole’ she cried with mock indignation as your insult hit home. You laughed, setting your phone on the arm rest.
‘And after I got you a present as well’, she pouted. From her pocket she produced two test tubes, sealed with orange stoppers. Novelty shot glasses; you’d seen them in stores before around Halloween. A clear, semitransparent liquid swirled inside the tubes, shimmering slightly with rainbow colours like gasoline in a puddle of rainwater. ‘Fancy a shot?’ she asked innocently.
The room span slightly to remind you or your level of intoxication. ‘Nah’, you replied hesitantly, ‘I’m good; I think I’m going to split anyways’.
‘Just drink it you pussy’, she groaned, her black lined eyes rolling. ‘Fine’, you resigned. She normally got her way. Taking the vial from her green polished fingers you unscrewed the top, it squeaked against the glass before shooting out with a hollow pop. You sniffed it cautiously. You were reminded of sambuca but with something weird behind it, an odd chemical smell. ‘C’mon’, she groaned, eyes rolling. You shrugged and drained the glass tube quickly. Your mouth exploded momentarily with sweet fire before cooling into an unfamiliar cinnamon-like taste. You coughed once or twice and was about to ask your drunken, giggling friend what two dollar liquor store she had got this from when a familiar voice sounded from the doorway.
‘Hey guys’, Rosie stepped lightly into the room, relaxing against the half open door, ‘party’s pretty much over’. Your head swam, whatever Emma had given you was strong stuff. You blinked heavily. Rosie stretched, her athletic form arching seductively and drawing your unfocussed stare to her small but pert breasts, wrapped in a thick black sweater. ‘You can stay if you like’. She walked a few steps into the room, her platform heels clicking against the wooden floorboards, ‘everyone has gone home so there’s plenty of places to sleep down here or’, her dusky eyes turned to you, a smile forming on her red lips, ‘upstairs?’
In your mouth your tongue felt massive, dry and slow. You began to reply but Emma cut across you, ‘Aww thanks hun, yeah we’ll be fine down here’. In a fluid motion she swung her legs up off the floor and stretched them across your thighs possessively. She leaned back into her arm of the sofa, one knee bent. Through the fabric of your jeans you could feel her every touch. Her right foot had stopped just below your crotch and a strange tingle of arousal spread from where the warm flesh rested on your leg. Her other heel perched on the armrest next to you. She flicked her toes playfully. The smell of her perfume mixed with sweat played about your nose, the sweet scent not unpleasant despite the hours spent dancing. Though dulled by alcohol your brain begged your body not to get an awkward erection, in this position she would surely feel it against the inside of her right knee. ‘We’re just going to crash on the sofa, he’s pretty wasted’, she added, smiling sweetly.
‘Oh’, Rosie replied deflated, ‘ok sure, see you guys in the morning’. She flashed a polite smile and left, closing the door softly behind her. You could hear her heels walking away down the hall before climbing the stairs. The room span, more violently than before. Your fingers twitched, grasping and releasing against the leather of the sofa. You turned to Emma who reclined comfortably in her position, eyes closed. A satisfied smile spread across her closed lips. You tried to question her but your brain struggled through a confused fog, your words getting lost. ‘I’m, I’m err,’ you began with difficulty, ‘I’m gonna go in that chair’. You nodded drunkenly to the armchair that stood in the nearby corner of the room.
‘Nope’, she commanded, her eyes remaining closed, ‘I’m comfy, stay where you are’. Her right leg pushed against you firmly, holding you in place. The heel of her foot connected with your reluctant erection. She made a small, delighted noise and, tilting her leg slightly, pressed the arch of her foot against your growing member. A whispered moan of pleasure escaped your guilty lips as she kneaded your manhood gently with her warm, smooth flesh. The weight of her foot rested against your balls and as you slouched down against the cushions, the tip of her toes flexing mere inches away from your half open lips; her scent caressing your nose hypnotically, you could not help but appreciate the new found position of power your friend held over you. She yawned prettily.
You remained frozen, drunk and lost, unsure what to do. Clearly she was drunk but still what if? Your hands remained at your sides prickling, the right held beneath the weight of her thighs. A minute or two after you assumed she was asleep, yourself struggling to remain conscious, she moaned softly and then spoke sleepily, ‘go on then, give me a foot massage, you know you want to.’ She giggled kindly, her tone free of mockery, ‘use your mouth if you like’, she added.
You began to stammer a reply. As you played her words over in your head, struggling to make sense of the situation, your vision slowly dimmed to black. With a weak yawn your eyes closed and you slumped back into the sofa’s embrace, warm and safe beneath the reassuring weight of Emma’s legs.
To be continued.