DIRT: the grunge diaries (𝒱𝒾𝒸𝓉𝑜𝓇𝒾𝒶'𝓈 𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃)

entry #122 - the killing moon

⚠️ kinda explicit descriptions of ... some not very SFW stuff. Violence. All the good (bad) things ⚠️

So, my head is spinning, I'm tripping, people around us are dancing to the second song I've requested to the deejay, aka a old ass Italian tune about an all chromed up, 10HP motorcycle ... and my tongue is dancing with Bessie's, much to the amusement of three very curious, rather horny specimens gathered around us. I still don't know if swapping spit with my best friend was a good idea, or just the final humiliation of our girlboss status, but if I'm doing it, it's because it's keeping me going. Don't get me wrong, kissing Bessie ain't getting me going, she is my best friend, I don't see her that way, and if it was up to me, I would've never dared to entwine our tongues to begin with. What's keeping me going is that the guys are literally squirming at the show we're pulling. I didn't want this to happen, I wasn't even seeing this coming, but the pressure on our kiss was real, so were the expectations... and here I am now, cupping my best friend's face, and kissing her seductively. As in a real kiss. A real kiss in which I'm sitting face to face with her, legs spread over her lap, while our tongues are entwining to perfection, and she's rubbing my hair to give off the vibe that this kiss is... authentic. Well, I can tell you that the spit swap we're enacting is hundred percent authentic... it's just that we are pretending to like this more than we actually are, because we are both such people pleasers, and our will to please the guys is stronger than our will to please ourselves. Bessie is a groupie, and this is gold standard behaviour for her... but does the show I'm pulling with her make me a groupie, as well? I swear to god I only know two songs from these guys' discography! I could never be a groupie, because if I were, I'd be all caught up with their catalogue... I suppose I'm just the drummer's very clueless, very adventurous girlfriend ! Ain't I ?

Between a tongue twirl and another one, you can catch Bessie and I opening our eyes, and looking at the guys to see how much they're digging our efforts: judging from what my half closed, drunken eyes can see, Layne is drooling by the sides of his mouth, and he's in and out looking that he'd wave a flag for us, if he had one. Mike is being very obvious about his sponsorship of Bessie and I's kiss, looking at us with mouth agape, and spilling part of the drinks he's holding all over the floor. I don't know if it's just the alcohol and the cocaine in my system giving me hallucinations, but for a second, I can see him toying with the buckle of his jeans, exactly like he wants to undo them, and get the cock out. Eewwww. I'm afraid for him, but he can't do it without getting us all kicked out of this club, and without giving me the pukes. Sean... I don't know. I can't decipher him. The more I look at him, the less I can understand if he's digging this or no. One second before he looks like he's appreciating what my best friend and I are doing, and the second after he looks like he's costipated, in urgent need of loo relief. His hands are, guess what, on the peepee... and guess what, I wish he'd remove them from there, and walk over here to touch me while I kiss my blonde best friend. That, that'd keep me going like nothing else in the world. But I know I ain't gonna get what I want, because my boyfriend is far too busy trying not to be too obvious about how much he's appreciating my tongue extravaganza with Bess. He's frowning. Frowning and laughing. Laughing and frowning. Looking at me with brows raised like he can't wait to turn me over his knee and spank me, as soon as we'll be behind closed doors. Fine with me.

'Brother, why ain't you asking them to get a room?' Sean chimes in, and I giggle into Bessie's mouth when I can hear him paying Mike back for all of the 'get a room's he addressed to us, when we were kissing in front of him. I am kissing Bessie now, Bessie is kissing me, our tongues are half out and blatantly dancing together... but no, Mike ain't bothered by the sight he's beholding one bit. He doesn't find this 'get a room' inducing, and honestly, he's such a sneaky opportunist for that, but I'm cool with it. I'm very cool with my boyfriend's relentless sarcasm. I'm cool with the guys' joint stares too, and I'd be a liar if I said that this whole thing ain't making me wet. I mean, I would be having it much better, if I had my boyfriend's hand between my legs, touching me while I get naughty with my bestie... but I suppose we can't pull it off in a night club. We'd have to get a room in order to do that, but for real.