Welcome to the Jungle, Sweetheart

The Ballad of Michelle and Randy

"Michelle! Come on you never want to go out! There's gonna be tons of hot guys there!" her friend hollered at her through the door. "Forget it Samantha! All your friends are whores! I'm not going to that party! I don't even have any nice clothes to wear!"

Michelle couldn't give her another sharp retort before her bedroom door flew open and nearly hit her square in the face. Samantha stood in the doorway in front of her, her hands on her hips, her short raven black hair strewn over her face. "If you didn't have any clothes why didn't you just say so!" She chirped, her temper fading from her dark brown eyes.

Before Michelle could protest, Samantha began tossing clothes out of her friend's closet. Shirts and dresses and other articles of clothing flew past Michelle followed by snorts of disgust from Samantha. "Ugh, you're right, you don't have any party clothes." Michelle rolled her eyes, "No, you mean I don't have any slutty clothes like you!" Samantha looked at her with narrowed eyes, "Well sometimes it's good to dress a little slutty."

Michelle looked at her appearance in the mirror. She did look good, but she didn't feel quite comfortable. She felt like she was trying too hard. She wore fishnet tights that went all the way up her legs, a shimmery green backless dress that went only halfway down her thigh, and shiny strappy black heels.

"So? Am I the greatest friend ever or what?" Samantha asked, who wore a sluttier outfit. Her dress was red and cut down almost to her belly button and white heeled boots that went up to her knees. Michelle bit her lip, "I'm kinda cold..." Michelle's black-haired friend rolled her eyes, "Relax, you'll warm up when we get there. Let's go."

There were so many people, almost every guy had a girl to match in their arm. Michelle didn't know whose party it was, or how Samantha did, but the only person there she knew was Samantha. She assumed that the party had been going for a good amount of time, being that most people there were already stone drunk.

She sat at an armchair, sipping tequila. She wasn't a very big drinker. People around her were laughing and talking and drinking and making out, she didn't really understand the big deal, it was just really noisy.

A tall, lanky brown-haired guy sat at the other chair, downing a bottle of jack daniels and occasionally glancing Michelle's way. His hair was relatively long and shaggy, wearing tattered blue jeans and an oversized grey shirt. I guess he was fine looking, he just had long hair.

On the couch next to her chair was a skinnier redhead guy with cowboy boots, a worn band t-shirt and leather jacket, with a small blonde in his lap, her tongue in his throat. He didn't seem to be particularly invested in her, he just let her do her thing. He mostly just looked really hammered and she was taking advantage of that, not that he seemed to care too much about a girl straddling him. She thought he looked kind of nice, it was hard to tell though, being that her face was all over his.

The brunet lowered his drink from his face and looked her up and down. Michelle took another drink from her glass, conscious of his gaze. He finally stood up, walking over to lean against her chair, "Hey there, you got a name sweetie?" She blinked up at him, being that he was very tall, "Michelle," she replied politely. He grinned, revealing small dimples on his smile, cute, but unfitting for a character like him.

"I'm Randy," he said, "Now what's a pretty little number like you doing all alone?" She felt a little bashful he called her pretty, "My uh, friend disappeared somewhere," she smiled. Randy tilted his head, "Well I can keep you some company till she comes back?"

She shrugged, he didn't seem like that bad of a guy, she always knew she should be cautious in scenes like this, but he didn't seem like exactly a drug dealer, and what's so wrong about having a little fun? She's just talking.

Michelle skootched over, sitting on the armrest so he could sit down in the chair. Michelle took a small sip from her glass. Randy peered at her drink, "Whatcha drinkin there hun?" Michelle pushed his nose away from her glass with her pinkie finger, "Tequila, its no good though." Randy took her glass and set it down, "You're right, let me get you some good stuff," he winked, "Stay right here." As Randy got up his hand brushed down her thigh, but she didn't particularly notice.

He came back in a few minutes, "Alright, try some of that," he handed her a much taller glass of the mystery drink. Michelle took a sip and paused, "Holy fuck, that tequila tastes like shit!" She realized, after having a drink of the mysterious liquor. Randy nodded, "Good right?" Michelle nodded, taking another longer drink. Randy watched her for a second with pale brown eyes, before swallowing a long, slow drink from his own glass.

As she took more and more drinks, and Randy continued to leave and come back with more refills for each other, her thoughts became blurrier, and Randy's walks became more stumbled. She didn't remember much of the following events, only hazy images.

She remembered Randy leaning in and saying something in her ear that made her flustered, she remembered him pulling her into his lap, slowly sliding his hand up her dress, him kissing her ear, and she remembered being carried away somewhere, after that, she didn't remember much.

When Michelle woke the next morning, she felt a heavy arm over her side as another person's presence in bed with her. She didn't know whose bed it was, she could hardly even remember where she was at all, she sat up a little and turned to find Randy, asleep, with his arm laying over her. And of course neither of them were wearing any clothes.

Michelle looked around the room to find other people in the room as well, some naked, all asleep, and she was grateful that Randy had brought her here first so they must've got the bed first come first serve. She assumed that there must not be another bedroom in this place otherwise there would be less people in here.

Feeling Michelle stirring underneath his arm, Randy sat up with a dazed look on his face. He scratched his head, "What's going on?" He mumbled with a yawn. Michelle turned, "Go back to sleep," Randy looked at her with confusion in his eyes, "Are you leaving?" Michelle couldn't read his expression, "Yeah, I gotta go find my friend." Randy nodded, laying his head back down on the pillow. "See ya around hun," he mumbled before dozing off again.

Michelle sat up, searching under the covers for her dress and being careful not to wake Randy again. When she didn't find it she extended her feet from the blanket and felt around the floor for her dress. In the darkness, on occasion she'd bump into unconscious bodies who would grunt and stir. Eventually she gave up after she found her underwear and bra, and she figured when she left the room she could probably find at least Samantha's dress to steal.

Michelle stood up, trying her best not to step on any stray limbs. She stepped on some hair and heard a low growl, "Hey watch it sweetheart..." "Sorry," Michelle muttered, before working her way to the door again.