Free Restless (Drunk Girl's Fantasies Short Story One) by Lily Evans Page A

remember, girl, it’s only three minutes of your life and then you can say fuck off to anyone and everyone.” 
    I have to grin at that.
    “Yeah,” Hailie agrees.  “You said you were restless.  Tired of your boring existence.  Wanted to try something wild and crazy…”
    I quickly cut her off with a growl.  “I was fucking drunk on who knows how many tequila shots.”
    “Top of the line tequila shots,” Georgia adds with a shit-eating grin and thousand dollar shoes.
    “Damn.”  I let out a deep, gut wrenching sigh.  Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath.  My almost D cup sized breasts rise and fall rapidly.  I just know I’m going to hyperventilate any second.   If they pop out while I’m twisting around on the pole, I’m going to die.  I put a hand on each of my breasts just to confirm they are being firmly held by the material.  That is, if it can really be called that.  “Is it crowded?”  I am not sure why I bother to even ask, I can hear the loud chatter, hoots, and hollers all the way back stage.
    “Fuckin’ packed,” Hailie cries with glee.  “And there are some hot-assed guys right smack-dab in the front.”
    “I’m gonna die!” I screech wobbling on my heels.  “And if say for a laugh I don’t fucking die out there, I’m going to break a fucking ankle on these damn stilletos.”
    “No you’re not, sweetie,” Georgia encourages as she places the red sequin Mardi Gras type mask over my head and proceeds to fluff my long almost black large roller curled hair to extreme heights.  “Fuckin’ hot!”
    “Yeah, but what a way to go.”  Hailie laughs.  “Definitely look fuckin’ hot!”  She punches my abs lightly.  “Those classes are paying off.  Your body is fuckin’ tight.  Steel fuckin’ abs to die for!  Real ginormous tits and abs of steel.”  She crosses her arms over her chest.  “So not fair.”  She shakes her head.  “I’m firing my personal trainer when Monday rolls around.”
    I roll my eyes at Hailie’s copious use of the ‘f’ word.  “You don’t have a personal trainer, babe.”
    “Fuck, that must be what my problem is.”  Hailie smiles, slapping her thigh, bent over at the waist like she just told the funniest of jokes.
    “Ha, ha,” I reply with sarcastic undertones.  I can’t deny I feel hot.  I love the outfit I ordered online and the mask.  My hair even looks surprisingly hot.  All I desire now is one extra something to put the extra oomph in my attitude.
    Georgia lays her hand on my arm and her voice goes soft.  “If someone wants to take you home are you going to let them?” 
    “You’ve got to be shitting me?”  I yell loudly wanting to make sure my two best friends hear me loud and clear.  “There’s no fucking way I’m going home to fuck a perfect stranger.”
    “Even if he’s super out of this world hot?”  Hailie clarifies as if I would walk out the door with some homely man. 
    I snort aloud.  There’s only one man that I find super out of this world hot, and he’s not gonna be here to see me dance.  So…I mean really just thinking of him sends tingling sensations of heat to places left unsaid—especially since there’s no one around to ease said aches except for myself and my little drawer buddy.  So depressing.  And I do look hot.  Smoking hot.  I’m gonna keep repeating it in my head over and over again like a goddamn mantra. 
    I sigh deep.  I hate men.  No I don’t, I love men.  I just want one of my very own.  God, now I sound like that crazy girl on that cartoon with all the animals.  I’ll hug you and squeeze you and make you my very own.  It’s enough to make me shudder. 
    Hailie and Georgia give each other looks that I don’t like.  “If he’s hot, she’s gonna give him some of that.”  Hailie waves her hand in front of me encompassing my entire person.
    “Right now I hate both of you guys.” 
    “No you don’t.” Hailie chuckles, her gaze turning