Story: Gin Fizz

Yes, we were drunk. Two-bottles-of-gin drunk, between three of us. That’s no excuse though. Then again, who needs excuses?

We had begun at four o’clock, after our last lecture. Rob, my boyfriend, texted me to tell me he was in the bar with his friend Andrew.

“We’re having a goatee-growing contest,” his message read. “Come and judge it.” The goatees were made from the foam at the top of their pint glasses. I picked Andrew, just to annoy Rob. My flatmate Rachel picked Rob, just to annoy me.

The pair of them were tipsy by five, when Rachel arrived, and smashed by nine, when she left. The goatee competition had turned into a display of machismo in which the pair of them attempted to persuade us to act as dumbbells in a weight-lifting competition.

“Is it the clean-and-jerk, or clean-and-snatch?” Rob said, leering at Rachel.

“That rather depends where you put your hands, sweetheart,” I told him. He immediately put them on my thigh. “Stop that. Perv.”

We made it back to Rob’s flat without serious injury and he produced a bottle of gin, one third full, and a bottle of flat tonic water. Andrew was ecstatic.

“Mate, I could kiss you.” He jumped onto Rob, placing his hand over his mouth, and proceeded to snog the back of his hand. They struggled, but Rob was no match for Andrew’s muscular physique. I enjoyed watching his muscles through the back of his t-shirt as he wrestled Rob on the bed. Eventually my skinny boyfriend emerged, his short blond hair tousled, looking a little irritated by the attention.

“Oh come on, do it properly,” I said, enjoying his annoyance. Andrew looked at me, slightly cross-eyed, then back at Rob.

“Okay,” he said, and grabbed Rob by the back of the head and kissed him, hard. Rob shook his head away.

“Hey, you bastard.” He raised his hand and I thought they were going to fight, then Rob grabbed Andrew’s head and stuck his tongue down his friend’s throat.

I’m sure my screams of laughter and applause could be heard several blocks away. Eventually they separated, breathing heavily.

“You’re a bloody awful kisser, mate.” Andrew spoke first. “What were you trying to find, my arsehole?”

“I was hungry.” Rob panted, the way I wanted to pant. “Thought I might find some leftovers.”

Eww. “I know how you feel Andrew,” I said, half-winking at him. “He’s like that with me.”

Andrew’s sizeable chest puffed out. “Shall I give you a demonstration of how a real man kisses?”

The thought made me wet. I could imagine, in that instant, what it would be like to run my hand over his chest, to have him crush my body to his while he devoured me. I had always fancied Andrew, but Rob had asked me first, and a cock in the hand is worth two in the bush.

Rob could see the look in my eye. He whacked Andrew in the chest. “Stop cracking on to my bird.” He looked a little hurt. “Go and find me some more gin.”

Andrew went on a hunt to the off license across the road.

“I enjoyed that kiss,” I told Rob, running a flirtatious hand over his neck. “Very nice. Very nice indeed.”

“Oh really?” He was purring. We kissed, open-mouthed, and his tongue flicked in and then, too hastily, out of my mouth again. I broke away, laughing.

“That must have really stung. ‘Your boyfriend’s a dreadful kisser’.” I giggled again and then let Rob off the hook, sighing quietly as I kissed him again. “No you’re not.”

He lifted me up and put me on his desk, and reached under my skirt. He pushed my knickers aside and ran his finger over my cunt. I was wet as a Dutch dyke. He smirked, and I enjoyed his smirk, feeling it slide down through his body to his finger as it searched for my clit. I put my hands on the edge of the desk, holding myself up a little, as he worked away at me. I could see him kissing Andrew in my mind’s eye, Andrew’s strong hands around his head, gripping his hair tight, the way I wanted him to grip mine.

Rob’s hard cock was a surprise. I had been so wrapped up in my imagination I hadn’t noticed him unbuttoning his fly, but the sensation of the hardness pressing, pressing, trying to get inside, sent a warm shiver through me. He was in before I could say anything, and then it was all rapid, frantic thrusting, making me tingle. Rob grasped my hands on the desk, securing me, like Andrew had held him, and all I could see were his muscles, his dark hair, his strong hand gripping Rob’s head and his cock, his unseen cock that I was desperate to grip myself, to grip and suck and fuck; and the tingle began to fizz.