This time when I go into the makeout room it’s with Ash. Janel is gone. She’s somewhere else. I don’t know where she is. Christopher and Constance Page are doing their thing, and I guess this is the point in the evening when “the makeout room” became “the orgy room”. These are the hazards of throwing a party called the “Naughty”.
“Are you having fun?”
“Yes. Are you having fun?”
“Yes.” Ashley pulls down my pants and I already have her French maid skirt in the right position.
“People seem to be having fun.”
“People do.” She deals with my Frederick’s panties and puts my dick in her mouth (that’s two).
“Are your friends having fun?”
Ashley nods. She puts her hands underneath my water bra.
Christopher and Constance are moaning. I can see Constance’s eyes. We’re looking at each other. Her head is getting knocked against the closet door, loosening the screws. I’m gonna have to fix those in the morning. Constance Page. Fucked her only once, in high school, in the photo hallway, between the dark room and the developing room. Should have done it at her house. Could have done it at her house, if we weren’t so scared. We took math together. We used to study. Constance Page, getting fucked by Christopher..Worst Mistake. The only reason Ashley wants to fuck me in here right now is to get back at him, to show him she’s moved on. Not the only reason, but a reason. You never know how someone like Constance Page is going to turn out. They could go one of a few ways. In high school she was hot, but nerdy—at least I thought she was hot. But she wasn’t that hot and she wasn’t that smart, which usually means they’re going to turn into the milk-fed, plush, housemate variety: not super-hot, but loyal; not a great career, but willing to work at the library or something. Not as low as the post-office variety, but not at the college-professor or actress level either. Granted I shouldn’t equate the last two.
The door opens. It’s Chad and Brooklyn. I didn’t know Chad liked girls. But the two of them are a contrast: Chad in all black, with long black hair, and Brooklyn, with nipple Xs and a lotta lotta flesh.
Ashley sits on top of me. I can’t see Constance Page anymore. I can hear Worst Mistake’s unfing sounds and I don’t know what’s grosser: them using a condom or them fucking without one. Chad and Brooklyn are doing this tantric thing, slow touching, touching each other’s faces. They’ve got some kind of spiritual communion. It’s just gross, when you think of sex in the details. The mechanics of Christopher’s dick being wrapped in a condom, maybe it slipping off, Constance Page’s pussy juice mixing around his scrotum. That stuff has smells. I mean, tomorrow they’re both going to be taking showers and they’re each going to have the smell of the other one on them. I think that’s really why people are gay or straight. It’s not really about the act of sex. It’s about what kind of smells you want to have on you afterward.