Drunk Bar Chick

Where is my friend Donna, the cock-sucking slut?

Ok, Donna had said she was 'going to the lav', ie: the women's toilet to join the line of chatting chicks. 

Well she had not. 

So where was she?

And I needed a pee but fuck-me if I was going to wait any longer for them to stop smoking cannabis and having 'storm in a tea-cup crisis' over ex-guys, or for that couple to stop fucking in stall number 3. each time they stopped we all got hope-full for a time...then they started at it AGAIN !! and we all groaned.

'I know he's fucking her behind my back!' some neurotic teen was screaming to her friend..

'Do You thing I was raped?' another one asks some stranger.

I groaned, and knew if I stayed here any longer then I would go mad. So I would have to go into the beer-garden at the back and piss on the floor in front of the party revelers - and there I would find Donna who would have done the same I now realized.

We did sneak into back-streets to piss sometimes, I recalled as I decided to move my shoes carefully without my cunt-loving knickers bringing me off to a public orgasm.

Off to go Into the dark beer-garden of sin and delight

"Hi sexy!" some chick says to me. 

I looked at this possible-lesbian with wonderment and blinked at her.

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