Ian hadn’t seen his friends since their little soirée; that night had been a blast. They drank martinis and nearly got totally wasted. He was feeding Madison one drink after the other in the hopes that she’d give him some. His plan almost worked, but she wasn’t drunk enough to go back to his room. However, she did let him grind up against her, and feel her up. Normally she would back away the moment his hardness pressed against her groin, but that night she seemed to like it. Ian was perpetually horny. He wanted some sex badly, and didn’t know how long he could wait for Madison to get ready. Thinking about getting down and dirty with his girlfriend was making Ian hot, and he knew just what to do for some quick relief. Everything in his room was set up perfectly, and he wasted no time getting down to business.
As Ian was in the midst of it, his celly rang. At first he ignored the call and let it go to voice mail, but no sooner had it stopped ringing than it started all over again. The phone was breaking his concentration, so he clicked a few keys on his keyboard, snatched the phone off his desk, and looked at the caller ID.
“Yo, dude, why are you calling me repeatedly like you don’t have anything better to do?” he said to PG, annoyed.
“Geesh, what’s gotten into you?”
“Nothing. I was busy, that’s all. So, what’s up?” Ian asked, ready to end the conversation and get back to his computer.
“Just finished adding a few more scenes to my screenplay.”
“I hope you didn’t take any creative license, and steal bits and pieces from the other night.”
“Oh, you mean like when you had Madison pressed against the bar,” PG said, with a smile in his voice.
“If you weren’t so busy looking at us, maybe you could’ve gotten a little action of your own,” Ian shot back.
“Oh…that’s low. If you weren’t so busy trying to grind a hole into Madison, you would’ve seen that I was getting some action of my own.”
“You mean the charity dance that Reagan gave you?” Ian said sarcastically.
“Dude, it wasn’t charity! She’s really into me.”
“Yeah, right. Keep dreaming. She’s only into the gifts you keep giving her.”
“Why don’t we have another get-together tonight, and I’ll show you how much she’s into me,” PG suggested.
“I wish I could, but believe it or not, my parents are home,” Ian said, sounding disgusted.
“Dude, they’re gone so much that I almost forgot that they lived there. Did you get a chance to tell them about my screenplay?”
“No. I’ve been in my room practically all day. I’ve been bummed out that they’re in town this weekend. I was going to invite Madison over for a ‘sleepover.’”
“Don’t forget to tell them about my new project. They might be interested. So, you think she would have gone for that?” PG asked.
“Don’t hold your breath. My parents are only into high-profile stuff, and your little screenplay won’t shine the spotlight on them like they’re used to. Anyway, I think Madison will be game. At least I hope so. Dude, I don’t know how much longer I can hold out,” Ian said, sounding exasperated.
“What’s the problem? I thought you were seeing Reese on the sly?”
“I was, and, dude, when I tell you that she knows how to work that body of hers,” he whistled, “I’m not kidding.”
“Wow, who would think that stringy-haired Reese is a Freak of the Week. So, why you’d stop screwing around with her?”
“She wanted me to quit going out with Madison. Reese said that since she was the one giving it up, then she ought to be my full-time girlfriend, and not just a booty call,” Ian explained.
“So, obviously you chose beauty over booty.” PG laughed.
“Dude, it’s not funny. There’s no way I’d leave Madison, who is a professional model, for a, a,” he stammered, trying to find the right word.
“A life-sized Raggedy Ann doll,” PG said, finishing Ian’s sentence. “Isn’t that what Reagan called her in class?”
“Yeah, she did. Reese isn’t polished by far, but I do miss the way she polished the old helmet.” Ian chuckled.
“So now that your booty call is history, when are you and Madison going to do the deed?”
“The next time my parents go out of town, I’m going to invite her over for the night.”
“You think she’ll stay all night?”
“I’m banking on it. I’m going to tell her to say that she’s spending the night at Reagan’s; that way she won’t have to worry about coming in late.”
“Sounds like you have it all planned out. Hey, why don’t Reagan and I come along, and sleep in the guest room,” PG said, devising a “Get-Laid” plan of his own.
“I don’t think so, dude. It’ll be Madison’s first time, and I want to make it special.”
“Yeah, it’ll be her first time, but your what? Twenty-first?” PG joked.
“Ha, ha.”
“So, does Madison still think you’re a virgin?”
“She never asked me point blank, so I never had to lie.”
“How convenient.”
“Look, dude, I can’t help it if she thinks we’re both saving ourselves for each other.”
“Poor disillusioned Madison. If she only knew her boyfriend was about as pure as the sludge in the Hudson River.”
“What can I say? I’m a teenager with raging hormones,” Ian said matter-of-factly.
“Rage on, dude. I’ma get back to writing. See ya in school Monday,” PG said, and hung up.
Since he was homebound on a Saturday night, and was far from sleepy, Ian opened the mini-fridge—that looked like a nightstand—next to his bed, then took out two miniature bottles of vodka, and a can of Red Bull. He took a long swig from the can, nearly draining it, and then poured the vodka in. With his drink in hand, he turned his attention back to his computer, and finished what he had been doing before PG called.