She’d been drinking pretty hard.

She does hold her liquor well, and that’s partially due to her sorority days in college. She’d told me a few stories here and there, and while I’m not sure exactly all of them are true, one thing I know is that she did a lot of partying. A few of her sorority sisters were visiting; and perhaps to recapture some of that, she’d gone out.

And then there was a knock at my door, her voice, muffled behind it.

I had opened the door and she more or less fell on top of me, her arms wrapped around my neck and her body pressing in close. I could smell her perfume mixing in with the last traces of the drinks she’d gotten. There was a hint of gin, a trace of Bacardi. Splashes of a night spend shouting loudly at her friends in a crowded bar. No doubt she’d been eyed more than once, her tight jeans flaring over her strappy high-heeled shoes. She wore a brightly colored scarf as a belt, and another around her neck, her shoulders bared from her low scoop neck shirt, hanging just around the caps of her shoulders. I idly wondered about her time at the bars.

“Mmmm,” she said into my collar. “Hi.”

“[Bunny Slippers,]” I said, pulling her inside enough for me to shut the door. “Do you know what time it is?”

She pulled back, her eyes a little glazed over, lips glossy and forming a goofy smile. “Um… it’s [Bunny Slippers]-time!”

Breaking her arms off of me, she took a few steps towards the couch. Turning on one foot rather ungracefully, she reached her arm out to me. Her finger wagged first, her face confused. I could see it starting to flush pink, then red. She’d shifted her hand, now her finger curled upwards, motioning to me.

She squared her shoulders to me, one moving upwards almost in time with an inaudible song, the beat dictating her body’s movements. Her shoulder curling inwards and upwards, her chest starting to push forward, her bottom lip slipping underneath her teeth into a gentle bite, her free hand pressing flat against the outside of her thigh. And yes, that finger, making rhythmic curling motions.

I was within arms’ reach and she grabbed at my shirt, pulling her the last step towards me more than she pulled me to her.  Her face up against mine, she placed her lips on me and kissed.  It was sloppy, wet, and I could now taste the fading alcohol in her mouth and tongue.  Sickly sweet, it bloomed in front of me, pressing its way in between sniffled breaths.

One way or another, we pulled ourselves to the couch.  And her hands quickly shed the scarf, tearing then at my clothes.  Her breath quickened, her eyes narrowed.  But her movements were clumsy, her fingers awkward and leaden, trying to pull apart buttons and undo zippers.  And she started talking.

“I wanted, mmf,” she started, before planting another kiss on me.  She kept talking.  “… To, um,” one hand pulling at my pants while with the other trying to pull her shirt upwards.  “… We’ve been kind of, um,” another dive at my face, my hands now helping her, slowly.  “… Yes, um, I wanted to know, aaah,” her hips pressing against mine. “… Uhhh, if you think of me as, oooh,” my hands making contact with the skin of her back, palms smoothing their way upwards to her bra clasp.  “…. [six,] um, if you, uhh,” her hands fumbling with her jeans.  “… if we were, mmm,” her lips again placed on mine.

It was chaotic.

Her hips grinding on top of mine, the couch becoming less and less comfortable, the words peppered in between the movements of her body and mine.  And then, suddenly - “Uh, give me a sec!”

She sprang up, wobbly, and dashed off to the bathroom.

I was in a state of partial dress, my shirt half open, my belt undone, my fly open, but the button of my pants not.  I got up, if only to rearrange myself.  Her purse lay on the floor by the door.  I walked over to it, and heard the faint buzz of her phone.  Picking it up, the phone buzzed again, and curiosity getting to the better of me, I reached in and checked the display.

It was from Dani.  And there was a line of text, a preview of the full message, as hinted by the ellipses at the end.  It read:

“Hey babe, hope u got there ok.  Did u ask…”

I placed the phone back in her bag, and the bag on the table by the door.  And I scratched my head.