The Slut Survival Guide
three.
Secret #3: You get more guys by exposing leg than by exposing boobs. Surprising, but true.
The Slut Survival Guide, as it was titled, was a black journal with no writing on the leather cover. But when opened, the title page had two little red kiss marks on it, I assumed from Cathy and Valerie. One was a deep red, almost brown, and the other was a bright red.
"Mine is the dark one and Val's is the bright one," Cathy said, pointing to the kiss marks. "You kiss it here, right above ours," she directed. She handed me a tube of lipstick that seemed a little darker than Valerie's, but still more red than Cathy's. "And then, you're going to write the title. It's called The Slut Survival Guide."
I opened the tube of lipstick and examined it, slightly confused. Staring at myself in Cathy's mirror, I tried to apply it to the best of my abilities; I didn't have much experience in the makeup department apart from foundation, concealer, and, when I was feeling really sassy, a little eyeliner. I leaned in and kissed the top of the page. Below it, I wrote the title in my best cursive, which looked messy regardless. I plopped the book down on the floor in front of Cathy's feet. "There," I concluded.
Cathy smiled. "And now, you read it."
I sighed and sat cross-legged on the floor. I placed the book in my lap and began reading it. I turned each of the pages and read the "Slut Secrets" that Valerie and Cathy had come up with. With each secret, I felt my heart drop further into my stomach, both from excitement and nerves.
Cathy held a black tank top up up to my chest. "This'll do good," she said, smiling and nodding.
"Cathy, I don't have your tits. I can't pull this off," I said, shaking my head.
"You can borrow one of my push-up bras," offered Valerie. "What are you, a B?"
I nodded, and Valerie began reaching her hands under her t-shirt to take off her own bra. She unhooked it and wiggled out of it, throwing it at me.
"Wait, you're not wearing one?" I asked her, confused.
"I'm not going out tonight," she explained. "It's just you and Cath."
"Why?" I asked her.
"The guy I went on that date with last time is going to be at this party," she said. "I'm trying to avoid him." She shrugged, sitting down on Cathy's bed. "It's a bit cowardly but fuck it. I'm not in a partying mood anyway."
I rolled my eyes as I hooked her bra in the front. "Alright. So what do I wear on the bottom?"
Cathy pulled out a skirt. It was black and had lace detailing all over it. "This should fit you."
I pulled it on over my non-existent hips and zipped it up in the back. As I turned around in the full-length mirror, I was actually surprised. I looked like I was one of them, but I still retained a little class with the shoes, which were plain black pumps. I insisted on not being totally whore-ified.
"You look hot," Valerie said, playfully licking her lips and giggling.
Cathy nodded. "I'd tap that."
I laughed, spinning around and admiring my own reflection in the mirror. "Well then. We're off."
Valerie walked out with us and headed back home on foot. Cathy and I climbed into her silver BMW and sped off.
I fidgeted with my necklace as Cathy drove us to the party. "Cath, I'm nervous," I told her.
Cathy shook her head, leaning over to switch the radio station, settling on some popular song with a lot of bass. "Don't be. You'll find out soon enough, but getting a guy to have sex with you or just hookup with you is the easiest thing you can do," she said, smiling reassuringly.
"God damn, I can get into Yale, but I can't mess around with a guy," I said, nervously laughing at my own joke.
Cathy smirked, turning the corner. "Trust me, it's not that hard," she assured me.
We pulled up in front of what was supposedly the house in which this party was taking place. It was really large, and there were at least twenty cars parked outside of it, all leading down the street. People were drinking on the front lawn, and I could hear the thumping bass from the music inside. I felt like I was about to puke, and I hadn't even had one drink yet.
Cathy parked her car about half a block away and we walked to the house. I looked up at the sky and admired the tinge of sunlight still hanging on in the sky. The night air was warm, probably about 80 degrees. But that wasn't why I was profusely sweating.
We walked up to the door, which burst open as soon as Cathy touched the handle. A voice boomed, "Cathy Handaaaaaaay! Come on in, girl!" The voice soon had a face and it was a really cute one. "And who's your friend?" he asked, swiftly moving over to me and checking me out.
Secret #4: Eyes go up, down, up, down, focus on boobs, and back to face. That's called a checkout.
I smiled at him like Cathy had taught me and introduced myself. "I'm Tanya," I said, coyly looking up at him as best as I could.
"Tanya," he repeated. "That sounds like a Russian spy name. Hot." He sleazily grinned at me and handed me a drink. "Here you go, Tanya."
"Thanks," I said, and turned around to see where Cathy had gone.
She had left, but I couldn't see her anywhere in the general vicinity. Panic mode ensued. I had to get to a bathroom. I looked back at Checkout Boy and smiled again. "I'm sorry, I have to find a bathroom. Maybe we can meet up later?" I winked at him, feeling more like I had just twitched, and turned around.
I ran around the house, frantically opening every door. Once I had found the bathroom, I poured the drink into the toilet and flushed. I stared at myself in the mirror and took a few deep breaths. I would have stayed longer, but someone began pounding on the door.
"Lemme in!" It was a male voice. I unlocked the door and opened it for him. He stumbled in and collapsed on the floor. He panted heavily and then looked up at me. "Hey," he said.
"Hi," I said. "I'll leave you be." I turned around to walk out, but the voice yelled out again.
"No! Wait! Who are you?" He asked, rolling over onto his back.
"My name's Tanya," I said.
"I'm Oliver," he said, reaching out a hand for me to shake, which I took. "I'm escaping from a girl. Want to keep me company?"
I laughed, looking at him lying on the bathroom floor. He was wearing a blue flannel shirt and tight-fitting black pants. His grin was cute, and he seemed nice enough. But sadly, I had a job to do. "Maybe another time, Oliver. I have something to do tonight," I said, giving him a sorry smile.
"Oh, well, too busy for poor Oliver," he mocked with a frown, but then turned it into a smile. "Well, can I at least have your number?"
"Sure," I said, taking his phone from his outstretched hand. I programmed my number into his phone and left him sprawled on the bathroom floor.
As I made my way back to the main party scene, I caught the eye of a tall boy with copper hair. I broke eye contact quickly, as I was accustomed to doing, and sat down on the couch. Regardless of my unintentional snub, he walked over and took a seat next to me. "Hey babe," he said. "What's your name?"
"I'm Tanya," I said, leaning into him as Cathy had instructed. Although I was doing everything right, I couldn't help but feel like I looked ridiculous.
"Are you drunk enough to make out with me, Tanya?"
I almost burst out laughing, but realized that I had to contain myself. I had no choice but to nod. I leaned into him, and he started kissing me. He was much better than Pug. This guy knew what he was doing. When his tongue entered my mouth, it wasn't so much a shove or a slither as just a simple enter. His lips were soft, and I almost felt myself melting, but I knew that sluts did not melt under any circumstances, so I tried to return the detached passion in equal amount. He ran his hands up and down my back and stopped at the area where my bra clasp was. He pulled away and looked at me. "Upstairs?" he asked.
I nodded. He grabbed my hand and led the way upstairs and to the master bedroom. There was no one in there, and I intended to keep it that way; I locked the door behind us. He pulled me into him, and we tumbled onto the bed. He continued kissing me and let his hands wander to the edges of my tank top where it met my skirt. He lifted my shirt up, and I reflexively cringed a little. He didn't notice because we were still making out with our eyes closed, but it wasn't pleasant. I was scared of what he thought of me naked. I also couldn't help but notice he tasted like beer and smelled like smoke, which repulsed me slightly.
His hand traveled down to my ass where he gave a strong squeeze. He stopped once my phone began vibrating in my back pocket. I leaped away from Copper Boy's groping hands and gave him an apologetic look, although I was actually grateful for the interruption.
It was Cathy. I opened my phone, my other hand hugging around my waist. Copper Boy leaned back on the bed and waited.
"Hello?" I answered.
"Hey, listen, I figured you shouldn't stay too late your first time around. You're probably freaking out. Did you get any?"
"Yeah, I did. So I can go?"
I heard Cathy mumble "mhmm" and cough. Smoking, I guessed. "Take my car. I left the keys in the door."
"That's irresponsible," I chided her, but decided to not go further than that. I was just thankful for the blessing of a phone call that she had just given me. "But thanks. Are you getting a ride?"
"I'll be fine," she said. "I gotta go, Tanya." She hung up before I could say anything else.
I slammed my phone shut and walked over to where my tank top had been thrown on the floor. I started putting it back on.
"Woah, Terry, baby, where are you going?" Copper Boy asked, starting to get off the bed.
"Terry?" I raised an eyebrow. "My name is Tanya. And I have things to take care of. Sorry, baby. Maybe another time," I said, my voice sounding more bitter than it should have. I left him on the bed and hurried out the door. I took the long way in order to walk past the bathroom in hopes of maybe seeing Oliver again.
The bathroom door was closed and I knocked. "Oliver?"
No one answered, and I began to walk away.
"Tanya!"
I turned around and there was Oliver. His head was poking out of the door very near the floor. He was grinning at me. I smiled back and waved. He stuck out a hand and waved back. He then looked around and quickly retreated into the bathroom again. I smiled to myself and left the party.
The Slut Survival Guide, as it was titled, was a black journal with no writing on the leather cover. But when opened, the title page had two little red kiss marks on it, I assumed from Cathy and Valerie. One was a deep red, almost brown, and the other was a bright red.
"Mine is the dark one and Val's is the bright one," Cathy said, pointing to the kiss marks. "You kiss it here, right above ours," she directed. She handed me a tube of lipstick that seemed a little darker than Valerie's, but still more red than Cathy's. "And then, you're going to write the title. It's called The Slut Survival Guide."
I opened the tube of lipstick and examined it, slightly confused. Staring at myself in Cathy's mirror, I tried to apply it to the best of my abilities; I didn't have much experience in the makeup department apart from foundation, concealer, and, when I was feeling really sassy, a little eyeliner. I leaned in and kissed the top of the page. Below it, I wrote the title in my best cursive, which looked messy regardless. I plopped the book down on the floor in front of Cathy's feet. "There," I concluded.
Cathy smiled. "And now, you read it."
I sighed and sat cross-legged on the floor. I placed the book in my lap and began reading it. I turned each of the pages and read the "Slut Secrets" that Valerie and Cathy had come up with. With each secret, I felt my heart drop further into my stomach, both from excitement and nerves.
Cathy held a black tank top up up to my chest. "This'll do good," she said, smiling and nodding.
"Cathy, I don't have your tits. I can't pull this off," I said, shaking my head.
"You can borrow one of my push-up bras," offered Valerie. "What are you, a B?"
I nodded, and Valerie began reaching her hands under her t-shirt to take off her own bra. She unhooked it and wiggled out of it, throwing it at me.
"Wait, you're not wearing one?" I asked her, confused.
"I'm not going out tonight," she explained. "It's just you and Cath."
"Why?" I asked her.
"The guy I went on that date with last time is going to be at this party," she said. "I'm trying to avoid him." She shrugged, sitting down on Cathy's bed. "It's a bit cowardly but fuck it. I'm not in a partying mood anyway."
I rolled my eyes as I hooked her bra in the front. "Alright. So what do I wear on the bottom?"
Cathy pulled out a skirt. It was black and had lace detailing all over it. "This should fit you."
I pulled it on over my non-existent hips and zipped it up in the back. As I turned around in the full-length mirror, I was actually surprised. I looked like I was one of them, but I still retained a little class with the shoes, which were plain black pumps. I insisted on not being totally whore-ified.
"You look hot," Valerie said, playfully licking her lips and giggling.
Cathy nodded. "I'd tap that."
I laughed, spinning around and admiring my own reflection in the mirror. "Well then. We're off."
Valerie walked out with us and headed back home on foot. Cathy and I climbed into her silver BMW and sped off.
I fidgeted with my necklace as Cathy drove us to the party. "Cath, I'm nervous," I told her.
Cathy shook her head, leaning over to switch the radio station, settling on some popular song with a lot of bass. "Don't be. You'll find out soon enough, but getting a guy to have sex with you or just hookup with you is the easiest thing you can do," she said, smiling reassuringly.
"God damn, I can get into Yale, but I can't mess around with a guy," I said, nervously laughing at my own joke.
Cathy smirked, turning the corner. "Trust me, it's not that hard," she assured me.
We pulled up in front of what was supposedly the house in which this party was taking place. It was really large, and there were at least twenty cars parked outside of it, all leading down the street. People were drinking on the front lawn, and I could hear the thumping bass from the music inside. I felt like I was about to puke, and I hadn't even had one drink yet.
Cathy parked her car about half a block away and we walked to the house. I looked up at the sky and admired the tinge of sunlight still hanging on in the sky. The night air was warm, probably about 80 degrees. But that wasn't why I was profusely sweating.
We walked up to the door, which burst open as soon as Cathy touched the handle. A voice boomed, "Cathy Handaaaaaaay! Come on in, girl!" The voice soon had a face and it was a really cute one. "And who's your friend?" he asked, swiftly moving over to me and checking me out.
Secret #4: Eyes go up, down, up, down, focus on boobs, and back to face. That's called a checkout.
I smiled at him like Cathy had taught me and introduced myself. "I'm Tanya," I said, coyly looking up at him as best as I could.
"Tanya," he repeated. "That sounds like a Russian spy name. Hot." He sleazily grinned at me and handed me a drink. "Here you go, Tanya."
"Thanks," I said, and turned around to see where Cathy had gone.
She had left, but I couldn't see her anywhere in the general vicinity. Panic mode ensued. I had to get to a bathroom. I looked back at Checkout Boy and smiled again. "I'm sorry, I have to find a bathroom. Maybe we can meet up later?" I winked at him, feeling more like I had just twitched, and turned around.
I ran around the house, frantically opening every door. Once I had found the bathroom, I poured the drink into the toilet and flushed. I stared at myself in the mirror and took a few deep breaths. I would have stayed longer, but someone began pounding on the door.
"Lemme in!" It was a male voice. I unlocked the door and opened it for him. He stumbled in and collapsed on the floor. He panted heavily and then looked up at me. "Hey," he said.
"Hi," I said. "I'll leave you be." I turned around to walk out, but the voice yelled out again.
"No! Wait! Who are you?" He asked, rolling over onto his back.
"My name's Tanya," I said.
"I'm Oliver," he said, reaching out a hand for me to shake, which I took. "I'm escaping from a girl. Want to keep me company?"
I laughed, looking at him lying on the bathroom floor. He was wearing a blue flannel shirt and tight-fitting black pants. His grin was cute, and he seemed nice enough. But sadly, I had a job to do. "Maybe another time, Oliver. I have something to do tonight," I said, giving him a sorry smile.
"Oh, well, too busy for poor Oliver," he mocked with a frown, but then turned it into a smile. "Well, can I at least have your number?"
"Sure," I said, taking his phone from his outstretched hand. I programmed my number into his phone and left him sprawled on the bathroom floor.
As I made my way back to the main party scene, I caught the eye of a tall boy with copper hair. I broke eye contact quickly, as I was accustomed to doing, and sat down on the couch. Regardless of my unintentional snub, he walked over and took a seat next to me. "Hey babe," he said. "What's your name?"
"I'm Tanya," I said, leaning into him as Cathy had instructed. Although I was doing everything right, I couldn't help but feel like I looked ridiculous.
"Are you drunk enough to make out with me, Tanya?"
I almost burst out laughing, but realized that I had to contain myself. I had no choice but to nod. I leaned into him, and he started kissing me. He was much better than Pug. This guy knew what he was doing. When his tongue entered my mouth, it wasn't so much a shove or a slither as just a simple enter. His lips were soft, and I almost felt myself melting, but I knew that sluts did not melt under any circumstances, so I tried to return the detached passion in equal amount. He ran his hands up and down my back and stopped at the area where my bra clasp was. He pulled away and looked at me. "Upstairs?" he asked.
I nodded. He grabbed my hand and led the way upstairs and to the master bedroom. There was no one in there, and I intended to keep it that way; I locked the door behind us. He pulled me into him, and we tumbled onto the bed. He continued kissing me and let his hands wander to the edges of my tank top where it met my skirt. He lifted my shirt up, and I reflexively cringed a little. He didn't notice because we were still making out with our eyes closed, but it wasn't pleasant. I was scared of what he thought of me naked. I also couldn't help but notice he tasted like beer and smelled like smoke, which repulsed me slightly.
His hand traveled down to my ass where he gave a strong squeeze. He stopped once my phone began vibrating in my back pocket. I leaped away from Copper Boy's groping hands and gave him an apologetic look, although I was actually grateful for the interruption.
It was Cathy. I opened my phone, my other hand hugging around my waist. Copper Boy leaned back on the bed and waited.
"Hello?" I answered.
"Hey, listen, I figured you shouldn't stay too late your first time around. You're probably freaking out. Did you get any?"
"Yeah, I did. So I can go?"
I heard Cathy mumble "mhmm" and cough. Smoking, I guessed. "Take my car. I left the keys in the door."
"That's irresponsible," I chided her, but decided to not go further than that. I was just thankful for the blessing of a phone call that she had just given me. "But thanks. Are you getting a ride?"
"I'll be fine," she said. "I gotta go, Tanya." She hung up before I could say anything else.
I slammed my phone shut and walked over to where my tank top had been thrown on the floor. I started putting it back on.
"Woah, Terry, baby, where are you going?" Copper Boy asked, starting to get off the bed.
"Terry?" I raised an eyebrow. "My name is Tanya. And I have things to take care of. Sorry, baby. Maybe another time," I said, my voice sounding more bitter than it should have. I left him on the bed and hurried out the door. I took the long way in order to walk past the bathroom in hopes of maybe seeing Oliver again.
The bathroom door was closed and I knocked. "Oliver?"
No one answered, and I began to walk away.
"Tanya!"
I turned around and there was Oliver. His head was poking out of the door very near the floor. He was grinning at me. I smiled back and waved. He stuck out a hand and waved back. He then looked around and quickly retreated into the bathroom again. I smiled to myself and left the party.