“You should stick it in my ass.”

“I am not going to stick it in your ass,” Carter says with a muted groan as he moves a little deeper.

“Come on, you know you want to stick it in my ass,” I goad him loudly.

His hand comes back up to cover my mouth and my laughter turns into a pleasure-filled whimper as he pushes all the way inside me and holds himself still.

“You should know that as a guy, I am pre-programmed to always want to stick it in your ass. I hope tomorrow you will appreciate my self control,” Carter explains as he slowly starts moving inside me.

“If you knock on my backdoor right now, I will totally let you in,” I giggle.

Carter stops again and takes a couple of deep calming breaths.

“Careful back there, though, there’s a rickety step. Don’t fall in my backdoor.”

Carter tries not to laugh as he begins thrusting harder, forcing my h*ps to bump against the edge of the sink. Thoughts of sperm and the porch by my backdoor flow out of my mind.

“Fuck, why did you have to start talking about sticking it in your ass? I’m not going to be able to last long,” he complains as he tries to slow down.

“Just shut up and keep going. I’m too drunk to care right now, and you should appreciate that shit!” I yell around his hand that's still held against my mouth.

The faint sounds of horns honking still make their way into my brain as he curses and moves faster against me, his orgasm barreling through him like a freight train.

His hand drops from my mouth and he braces his arms on either side of mine on the edge of the sink as he buries his head in the side of my neck. He comes with a muffled shout and I grip the sink tighter so we won’t topple over.

We stood there breathing heavy for a few minutes before he pulls himself out of me and we right our clothes. He gives me a quick kiss and promises me five of my very own orgasms in repayment before we open the door and walk out into the aisle of the bus.

All of our friends are standing there cheering and clapping, and it was then that we noticed the bus was stopped and a police officer was standing behind them with his arms crossed in front of him.

“Oh my God, we got arrested?” I ask Carter.

Why the f**k don’t I remember going to jail? Was I somebody’s bitch now?

“No,” he laughs. “We just got a ticket for indecent exposure. Turns out Jim didn’t explain the bathroom door situation clearly. That little lever you were trying to slide over? THAT’S what blacks out the window so no one can see in. Oops.”

Drew starts laughing and I noticed that he inches close enough to me so he can put his ear right next to mine and hear Carter’s end of the conversation I shove him away when I realize that’s what he was doing.

“Ha ha get it, Claire? Back door action? I was talking about the bathroom door. Or was I talking about you shouting for Carter to f**k you in the ass over and over? Hmmm, I’m not sure. They are equally entertaining to think about,” Drew says with a laugh.

Oh my God. This day can’t get any worse.

“So anyway, I was just calling to make sure you were alive. As you can see, everyone ended up crashing at our place since the bus stopped there first. Jim gave Jenny a ride home this morning to take a shower and left Liz and Drew behind to make sure you didn’t choke on your own vomit or anything. I’m on my way to pick Gavin up from your dad’s and then we’re meeting my parents for brunch. There’s been a slight change of plans. Instead of them coming to our house, they rented out the small party room at the Oberlin Inn where they’re staying. They wanted to invite your dad, Drew, Jenny, Liz, and Jim and they didn’t want to impose on us.”

I quickly say good-bye to Carter and kick Liz and Drew out of the house so I can take a shower and start to feel a little more human.

Hopefully, that will be the extent of my embarrassing behavior from last night.

7. Whore Dizzle

I shower, dress and walk through the lobby of the Oberlin Inn in record time. I no longer reek of stale liquor, but I’m pretty sure I still look like ass. A view of my reflection in a mirror behind the registration desk confirms my suspicions.

“Mommy, you look old today,” Gavin says as we walk hand in hand around the corner and down the hall. “Like old lady and eye balls.”

“Gee, thanks. I love you too,” I mumble.

Carter had got a call to come into work to fill out a form that will add Gavin to his health benefits, so after he picked Gavin up from my dad’s and dropped him back off with me, he ran up there and said he would meet us at the inn.

Yeah, that’s exactly what I want to do. Walk into the lion’s den alone.

I had made a quick call to Drew and Jenny and asked if I could pick them up on the way for moral support. I’ve spoken to Carter’s parents a few times on the phone since we moved in together, but this will be the first time they actually see me and meet Gavin. I am beyond nervous about making a good impression. They are the complete opposite from what I'm used to. They never swear, they only drink on special occasions, and I'm pretty sure they've never puked in anyone’s lap after a night out bar hopping. I figured since Mr. and Mrs. Ellis already know Drew and haven’t forbid Carter from hanging out with him yet, I should be okay.

“I still can’t believe you don’t remember screaming at that old lady in the parking lot. It was priceless!” Drew whispers from behind me as we walk into the party room and see Carter and his parents talking to a waiter.

“I’m so glad I downloaded the theme from “Golden Girls” to her phone right after that occurred,” Jenny says to Drew.

“It really was a stroke of brilliance,” he replies.

I roll my eyes and try not to think about the events from last night that Drew and Jenny regaled me with on the ride over. Some things are best left forgotten—or lost in a drunken haze that no one should ever speak of again.

As we walk through the doorway of the room, Carter turns and we make eye contact. I suddenly don’t want to kill the two people behind me. Everything is momentarily forgotten when I look at him.

I can do this. Parents love me.

He excuses himself from the discussion and hurries over to us, scooping Gavin up in his arms and peppering his face with kisses. He reaches out and grabbed my hand to pull me in close and place a soft kiss on my lips.

“Mmmmm. You don’t taste like vomit and desperation anymore,” he whispers with a smirk as he pulls his face away from mine.

“Remind me to never drunk dial you again for a booty call,” I reply with mock irritation.

“Don’t worry,” he says as he turns and pulls me over to his parents. “If that’s your idea of a booty call, I’m never taking another call from you again at two in the morning from the kitchen while you’re down the hall in the bedroom. My penis can’t handle another rejection like that. Or should I say projection?”

Drew and Jenny start giggling behind us.

“Alright, get it all out of your system now you guys. We are never, ever speaking of what happened last night again. We all need to pretend like it never happened,” I state firmly as Carter wraps his arm around my waist and hefts Gavin up higher.

“Yeah, about that,” Drew says sheepishly, “you might want to check Facebook when you get a free moment.”

My mouth dropped open, and I could do nothing but stare at his back as he pushes us out of the way and drags Jenny up to greet Madelyn and Charles and give them a hug. I barely paid attention as Drew introduces Jenny to them. Before I know it, all eyes are on me and Gavin.

“Say hello to your grandparents, Gavin,” Carter prompts him.

“Hi, I’m Gavin. When I’m ten I can drink beer and mow the lawn,” he states with a smile.

Nothing like a little tension breaker.

“Well, isn’t that sweet,” Madelyn says in a voice that clearly states it's anything but.

“It’s good to finally meet you Clarissa,” Charles says distractedly as he stares at Jenny’s ass when she bends over to pick up her lip gloss that she had dropped.

“Dad, it’s Claire,” Carter reminds him in a low voice, giving me an apologetic look.

As Gavin and I are pulled in for impolite hugs and air kisses, all I can do is try and think about what I may or may not have put on Facebook. The fact that I am pretty sure Carter’s mother hated me on sight and his father is too busy ogling my friend’s assets to get my name right doesn’t even touch a nerve. If I had put a picture of my boobs on Facebook, I'd throw myself off of a bridge anyway, so their judgments won’t matter.

Under normal circumstances, I own who I am. I like to have fun and go crazy, occasionally, and when that happens, it usually involves alcohol. I don’t drink and drive and I don’t spend my money on hookers and crack. I don’t waste my paycheck every week filling up entire shopping carts with bottles of Jack like Nicolas Cage in Leaving Las Vegas, and sometimes my shenanigans are broadcast on Facebook either by my own stupidity or by the stupidity of my friends. Typically, this is only slightly embarrassing, and we would all have a good laugh over it for months to come. However, in a moment of insanity a few days ago, I had decided to friend-request Carter’s mother and a few other members of his family on Facebook. I really should be supervised anytime I go near social media. There should be an actual human being whose only job is to sit next to me and say things like, “Do NOT post that,” and “You should seriously consider removing your tag off of that picture,” or “No, dick does not rhyme with delicious, and you are not good at poetry when you’re drunk, contrary to what you’ve been told,” and “That comment sounds a lot better in your head than it will under her picture. And that’s not how you spell c**k sucking whore anyway”.

After we conclude a few minutes of small talk, Madelyn and Charles whisk Gavin away and begin spoiling him by letting him order anything he wants on the menu, even if it's five different desserts. I turn to glare at Drew as Carter moves behind me and wraps his arms around my waist.

“Why the hell do I need to check Facebook?” I practically screech at him. “What did you let me do?”

“Well, the word ‘vagina’ may have been used in several posts last night,” Drew informs me seriously. “As well as a few words even I’ve never heard before.”

I can feel Carter’s rumble of laughter as his chest presses up against my back.

“Oh this should be good,” he says absently as he rests his chin on my head.

I shake my head in denial, completely horrified at the fact that I drunk Facebooked last night.

How can he be so calm? God only knows what I did that his mother might have seen.

“No wonder your mother isn’t very impressed by me,” I state.

“Nah, don’t take that personally. Madelyn Ellis was born with a stick up her ass,” Drew reassures me.

“It’s true, she was,” Carter agreed. “And they love you so stop it.”

A few minutes later, Liz, Jim, and my father arrive and after introducing themselves to Carter’s parents, they make their way over to our little group.

“So, I’m guessing since you’re still alive Carter’s mom either hasn’t read her Facebook page yet or she has a really good sense of humor,” Liz says with a laugh.

Oh my God. That’s it! I’m putting an ad out for new friends.

“I should have been nowhere even remotely near Facebook in that condition. What is wrong with you people?!” I yell in a loud whisper so Carter’s parents won’t hear my hysterical breakdown from their table over by the kitchen where they are currently showing Gavin what each utensil is for and how to place the napkin in his lap.

Oh Jesus. They have manners. They have manners and they’re all proper and know which fork to use, and I took a dump on their Facebook page last night.

“You guys let her near the internet when you went out? Jim should especially know better. How many times has she lifted your cell phone and hacked your Facebook page to tell everyone you like to eat baked beans off of hookers?” My dad asks with a chuckle.

“I wouldn’t laugh if I were you, George. I remember when she changed your status to say, ‘Can anyone tell me what it means when your penis has a blue discharge that smells like egg salad?’” Jim reminds him.

“So who let the dip shit near a phone?” my dad questions.

Can you feel the love? Can you? It feels almost like having my toenails ripped out.

“Well, at first we thought we should take her Blackberry away for her own safety and for that of those around her. But when she posted, “Spitters are quitters” on every one of Carter’s cousin’s pictures in her photo album, at that point it was just too funny to put a stop to.” Drew laughs.

Oh f**k me.

I vaguely remember while Carter was up at the bar buying a bottle of wine at the fourth winery, I told everyone the story about how his cousin Katie gave some guy a bl*w j*b in college and gagged on his spunk. The very same story she had just told me a few days ago when she accepted my friend request and swore me to secrecy. Yes, I realize this is very personal information to be sharing with an almost-stranger, but we bonded quickly over Facebook email, what can I say? I may have suggested that if I told anyone her deep, dark secret she could shave my head.

Double fuck.

“I really don’t want to hear the story about my cousin that goes along with that, do I?” Carter asks as I crane my neck around to see the grimace on his face.

“Probably not,” I mutter as I look back at Liz.

“Give me your phone. Now,” I state with my hand out to her.