Sluts Have Feelings

02. Confusion

Sluts Have Feelings |Two|

Confusion: noun, 1 lack of understanding; uncertainty. 2 the state of being bewildered or unclear in one's mind about something. ORIGIN Middle English

The next morning, I woke up with a nude body sprawled across me. Normally I don't mind naked dudes, but I was so over everything right now. I just woke up in a bad mood. I pushed the sweaty body off of me as I stood up out of bed. I will admit I took a little time to admire what drunk me caught.

I strutted out of the bedroom and headed down the hallway, searching for the bathroom. After a few tries of walking into linen closets and a large display of X-rated movies, I found the bathroom.

I avoided looking into the mirror like it was the plague and started scrubbing my face. I needed to wash away all traces of last night so I could start over again.

Once I was done, I left my bathroom and headed back to the bedroom. I had to hurry and get to school. I hated school, don't get me wrong, I just couldn't miss any more days if I wanted to graduate. Getting held back was not part of my future plans. Also, I needed to get a new group of teachers to sleep with. I've already screwed all of the screw able ones at my school.

I didn't bother to search for my dress; it was most likely in tatters. I opened the closet and grabbed a blue and white striped dress shirt. It hardly covered anything, but I didn't care. I grabbed my bra and strapped it on. There's no way I was going to leave it; it cost me $75. I grabbed my heels and walked out of the house, not bothering to close the door behind me.

A taxi quickly stopped in front of me before I even had to call one. Perks of dressing like a slut. The cab driver was really cute and kept grinning at me the whole drive. Each time I caught him looking in the rear view window, I would smirk and undo another button on the stolen dress shirt.

It got to the point where I had no clothes on, and I ended up in the front seat straddling the driver. There's always time for sex. After John Doe #2, we continued onto the way to my house. I climbed out free of charge, and walked inside, making sure to sway my hips. I did a quick wave before entering my house and going upstairs to my room.

I stripped out of #1's dress short and tossed it on top of the ever growing pile of nameless partners' shirts. I guess it could be called a collection. After I slept with a guy, I would take something of his. It was tradition.

I carefully pulled on my tight, green and grey cheerleader uniform. FYI, sluts are always cheerleaders. They are the prettiest, bitchiest bitches on campus. It wouldn't be right if I wasn't a cheerleader. I heavily applied my makeup like I was going to a club and not school. I looked fake as crap. Perfect.

I grabbed my bag and car keys before pulling on some heels and heading to my car. Time for hell. Oh wait, I meant school.