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Great Sexpectations: Volume Four

After last week’s partial success, a college ball is perhaps not the most obviously immoral environment to continue my run of form. I’m feeling thoroughly improper though, so it’s black tie or bust.

I’m here with a big group of friends, and my best friend among them. I’ve only told the guy next door about my challenge, but for everything else this girl is my number one confidant. Her enthusiasm is infectious. We are two people, lacking in any self-consciousness around each other, who value every aspect of the opposing personality. Talking of opposing personalities, I realise that stalker girl number one, perhaps inspired by the partial success of her fellow predator, has made it to the party.

She is rotund and unattractive, with a personality that is prone to gossiping and sensationalism. Totally wearing. She catches my eye, and I spin around, desperate to avoid contact, right into my best friend. Have you ever had one of those suggestive moments where a new direction becomes possible for the first time, and the tension is unbearable as you decide whether to take it or not? This is what we suffer as I turn into her and find our faces inches apart.

We rise up to meet it; freed from constraint amongst the inevitable decadence of ball-goers. She puts her hands on my shoulders, and gives me a risky, full-blooded kiss, open-mouthed, and I can taste the flame of the shot that she must have just taken. We keep kissing, without thought of friendship, pressing our faces together in the crowd, revelling in the moment without caring what happens next.

We break, and I stumble away towards the toilets. I see the ice queen is here too, an irritated onlooker at my new attachment; her scowl says, “I shouldn’t have made him work for it”. As I carry on, I notice stalker number one tracking my movements, but disorientated and eager to return I manage to lose her. Her inability to see over anyone’s shoulders has also aided my flight.

Finally free, I begin to piss against the bottom of an unused door, away from the crowds. Then, in mid-release, the door swings open and, horrifically, I spatter all over stalker girl, who, shrewdly judging my escape route, has managed to come at me from an unexpected angle. Not anticipating My unintentional counter-play is even more unexpected.

She shrieks and runs off the way she came. I finish up, feeling that I’ve somewhat redeemed myself for last week’s admitted lapse of judgment. The ball is winding down. Our friends head home soon after, leaving my best friend and me, caught between strangers and lovers, amongst the barren stalls and litter-strewn grass, heavy with potential and hot in the calm night. 

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