I asked Jim if he would mind helping me get her home as I was quite "drunk" as well. We steadied her on each side and walked out of the house heading for our place. It may have been the booze, the pills or the fresh air or a combination of all of them, but as soon as we got outside she started to go down like a rock. I grabbed her from behind and Jim grabbed her legs and we picked her up to carry her back to the house. After a couple of steps her dress had ridden up to her hips and Jim, who was holding one leg on each side had a close-up view of her panty clad crotch. I asked him if he was enjoying the view and he said he certainly was. We carried her into our house and down the hall into the bedroom putting her on the bed. She was out like a light. I shook her few times and called her name but there was no response. She was wearing a light summer dress that buttoned all the way up the front and I told Jim to go ahead and do what he wanted. He went over and stood over her and slowly. I wasn’t even that excited about the Yuletide since I didn’t have anything to really be excited for: I had no parents, my relatives didn’t give a damn if I was dead or alive, my ‘girlfriends’ turned out to be gifts from the underworld and may have well been Satan in disguise, and to top it all off, I was hanging on a thread with my job. My alarm clock just rang through my ears in my attempt to ignore it, and I tried my absolute hardest to just pretend that I wasn’t hearing anything, but I ended up giving in and muttered a mild-curse, the type you’d hear on a G or a TV Y7 show, nothing big or fantastic, and finally snapped mentally. I gave in. ‘Piece of garbage! Why didn’t you go off HOURS ago? You better not be getting wacky on me…’ I rolled over and reached for the clock, turned it off, and yawned a noisy yawn. ‘Holy crap!’ I instantly grabbed my sides once I had pushed the blankets off and instantly felt the air trying to pierce through me like hundreds of knives. ‘I knew it was.
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