Country Girl

By Love Her Tipsy (luvhertipsy)

Chapter 1 

“Are you alright?”

William Johnson was genuinely concerned. As he was taking his weekend walk along the canal, enjoying the sunshine, he noticed a young woman sitting on a park bench. She not only drew his attention because of her voluptuous figure and flowing hair, but because she was obviously crying. He hoped she would not think he was coming on to her or trying to be a letch.

“Oh, [*sniff*] thank you, [*sniff*] but I'll be [*sniff*] okay,” she choked out. Unfortunately, she certainly did not seem like she was going to stop crying anytime soon. William’s heart went out to her.

He sat down next to her, close but not too close. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?” he asked. “You really seem like you could use a friend. Please talk to me—I’m a good listener.” He offered her a small but warm smile as she glanced over to him.

Wow, she’s beautiful, he thought to himself. “C’mon, talk to me. My name is William.”

She dried her eyes and looked at him timidly. Then she looked at him more intently, as if to see if he was genuine.

Okay, I was wrong, William thought. She is gorgeous! Her big blue eyes were both inviting and penetrating. When she looked down at her overly-soaked tissues, he glanced at her luscious figure. She was “thick,” which he absolutely loved. She had thighs that spread out deliciously, cute love handles, and man oh man, she has big, full breasts. Since she was slumped over slightly, her full cups were almost hanging—but he could tell that, as soon as she stands up, they’ll be sticking out.

“Well, I guess I’m just a bit homesick . . . William,” she offered, giving him a quick look and a ever-so-small smile.

“Oh, I’m sorry, hon,” William sympathized.

“Thanks,” she returned. “Oh, and I’m Samantha.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Samantha,” William smiled. He did not offer her a handshake, as he didn’t want to invade her space . . . at least, not yet. He definitely would love to, though.

“And you. I am new to the city. It’s a bit overwhelming: so much concrete, so many huge buildings, so many people . . .” Her voice trailed off in a quiver.

“I know, I know, Samantha,” William assured her as he instinctively rubbed her back slightly. He suddenly realized what he was doing and pulled his hand away.

“I’m sorry!” he blurted.

“No, no, it’s alright. It actually felt good,” she said coyly and sniffed a bit.

A thought flashed through William’s mind, but he immediately dismissed it as his active imagination. He thought she just might be flirting with him and he would love to offer to take her home.

“I really miss my grandpa. He is my only relative because my parents died in an accident. My grandpa raised me and I really miss him.” Samantha seemed to relax a bit and seem relieved to get these feelings off her chest. “I grew up in the backwoods, near a small town without many people. Grandpa and I pretty much lived alone. This is just sooooo different.” She let out a big sigh. William just looked at her intently and listened. He could look at her all day.

“Grandpa was really loving and I always felt safe, but things seem so different here,” she continued, taking a deep breath as she sat back. Damn, her figure was nice. “He took good care of me, but he kept me very sheltered. I knew I had to go out and see the world, but I guess I didn’t expect this. I was raised in a very religious, very conservative household. Everyone here is so different. I guess I am really scared . . . but a bit excited, at the same time. Does that make any sense?”

“It makes a lot of sense,” William said with a slight nod. Samantha smiled at him warmly. He smiled back at her. He got a sudden shot of courage looking at her beautiful smile.

“Uh, I’m sorry if this comes across a bit forward, but . . . I would love to talk more, but would you rather talk in a more private setting? I need to go back to my apartment and feed the cat. Would you, um, like to, uh, come back to my place?” William was worried how she was going to accept her offer. He just wanted to continue talking to her.

“Sure!” she blurted out, obviously excited about making a new friend. She trusted him. Then again, she was a bit naïve and trusted just about anybody who seemed friendly.

“Great! Let’s go.” Off they went and continued to talk about various things, like why he was called William and not Bill (just preferred it and hated “Bill,” he said) and why she was raised in such a sheltered way (not really sure, but her grandfather hinted sometimes). He even got her to smile and laugh a bit. She was incredibly polite, well-spoken, and well-read. Samantha was very much a well-trained lady in every regard. William picked up on the fact that she was more than just a little naïve, also.

_______ oOo _______

“Oh, cute place,” Samantha said and she looked around and smiled.

“Hey, thanks, I try my best,” William responded. “Here, make yourself at home. Have a seat on the couch and I’ll make you a drink.”

“Okay,” Samantha chirped, feeling better now that she found someone to talk to, confide in, and—especially—laugh with.

William walked over to the coffee table in front of the couch and put a drink down on a coaster. Samantha thanked him and reached over for the cola that fizzed before her. She took a sip and made a face with a slight cough and sputter.

“What’s the matter?” William asked.

“Wow! This is the strangest Coke I’ve ever had! What variety is this? It’s certainly not Vanilla Coke or Diet Coke.”

“Oh, gee,” William chuckled. “It’s a rum-and-coke. Never had that?”

“Ya mean, like, alcohol rum?”

“Uh, yeah,” William smiled, amazed at her innocence. The wheels in his head started turning.

“Oh.” Samantha sounded disappointed.

“That’s not okay? Because I could—”

“Uh . . . no,” Samantha interrupted. “It’s just that . . .”

“Just what?”

Samantha seemed a little embarrassed. “My grandpa told me to stay away from alcohol. He said it’s of the devil.” She looked up at him with those big, blue eyes that disarmed him.

“I’m sorry?” he asked, trying to believe his ears.

“I—I—I’ve never had alcohol before,” she stammered, looking up at William, hoping he wouldn’t laugh at her. The wheels in his head slowed way down.

There was momentary silence as William sat down next to her. This explained a lot. This must be some of what her grandfather hinted at. “Wow. I guess you really did lead a very sheltered life.”

“Oh, yeah, I really did,” Samantha said with a slight sigh of relief. “Don’t get me wrong: I love my grandpa. He always took very good care of me. He just wants what’s best for me."

It sure sounds like she’s repeating something that was drilled into her, William thought to himself.

“So . . . I don’t know if I should drink this,” she finished. Instead of the wheels coming to a complete, grinding halt, they went into high gear.

“Actually . . . no,” he said matter-of-factly.

“No?!”

“No.” Now or never, William. “I think we met for a reason.”

Samantha was lost. Where’s he going with this? “What do you mean?”

“My dear, I think you need to get acclimated to the ‘outside’ world,” he stated. “I am sure that you’re grandfather meant well, but there is negative side to being so secluded all your life. While you don’t have to overboard, necessarily, you should try to stretch your wings, try a few new things, see how you like them, and move forward. Some things you won’t like, and that’s okay. Some things you will like, and that’s okay, too.” He stopped for a moment to if she was taking it in. Samantha looked down at her glass and back up to him, her eyes asking all sorts of questions.

“It’s alright, it won’t bite back,” he encouraged her. “I suggest you learn how to drink alcohol because you may need to have a drink at a business meeting, for instance.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes, most definitely.” William was cruising and he knew it. Truthfully, she would need to learn to not be afraid of a real drink—but he was hoping that she’d loosen up, too.

“Wellll, okay, William,” she said as she raised her glass. She took more than a small sip, but certainly didn’t gulp it, either. Her face screwed up while she swallowed.

“Whew! This seems a bit nasty, if you ask me,” Samantha confided.

“Sure. It really does take a little getting used to. You’ll get used to it shortly, though. Hey, you might even enjoy it!” William took a sip of his to prove it.

“Mm, I suppose so. It’s a little better,” she noted, eyebrows furrowed.

“Atta girl, you’ll be fine. Here, watch me,” he suggested. He told a slightly larger sip. “Follow my lead.” Samantha seemed hesitant.

“Ya know what? I used to not like drinks, either,” he almost whispered. “C’mon, there’s only one way to get used to it.” She looked at him while she raised her glass and took a larger sip.

“There ya go. And you can stop when you feel like it.”

She looked at him and said, “I can?” William noted she sounded a little louder and a little more bold. Take another shot of courage, girl.

“Why, yes, of course,” he replied. “You can stop anytime. But the trick in a business meeting or social event is to not make it look like you disapprove of the drink.”

“Mmm,” she said, taking another sip. Hey, this stuff isn’t that bad, she thought.

William was smiling to himself. Oh boy, this is gonna be fun.

“Mmm, wow,” she said, looking down at her glass and smiling. “I’m all warm inside [giggle].”

“Really? Hey, it’s a good that happens. That’s why some people like to have a drink after they’ve been skiing. It warms them up!”

“Yeah, I canseewhy,” she smiled at him while she swung her head up to look at him. “I probably shouldn’t have too much, though.” She got serious, but her smile was still there.

“Oh, really? And why is that?” William wanted to know.

“Wellll, I’m not sure I sh’really say,” Samantha said with the slightest lilt to her speaking voice.

“Oooh, c’mon. Tell me.”

“Oooookaaaay. [giggle] Well, my grandpa said that, that th’women in our fam’ly shouldn’t have too much. Y’know [giggle].” She shrugged her shoulders and looked coy.

“Know what?” he asked, hoping to stall a little while the rum entered her system more. Samantha suddenly finished her drink with an air of confidence as if to punctuate her thought.

“The women in our fam’ly act inapropit....inappro-pri-ate.” Samantha started giggling to herself.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, as if he didn’t know.

“I jus’ got tonguey-tiedy,” she continued to giggle.

“Aaaah, I see,” William stated as he stood up and smiled like a Cheshire Cat. “Let me go make you another drink, then. You obviously need to get rid of that silly little idea.”

“Mm? No no no, I’m fiiine.”

Oh, yeah, you are, my dear . . . and you’ll be feeling much more fine before this night is out, he thought as he made a stronger drink in the kitchen.

Samantha sat on the couch, thinking that she must be getting really tired. She felt light-headed. She shook her head a little, but instead of clearing her head, it made it worse, but . . . she didn’t really care. She was enjoying her time with William. What a nice name. Willllllliam. He’s such a nice guy. So attentive. Hm, why are my lips numb? Numb, numb, numb . . .

_______ oOo _______

About 20 minutes later, Samantha was having a difficult time concentrating. She suddenly remembered that before she tilted her head back and let out a sloppy “Woooooooo” because she felt like she was flying, she was saying something to Willie—no, William, yeah, that William guy.

“Yeaaaahhh, tha’ Will’m guuuuy [giggle]. Hee’sssss sssso niiiiiiice....”

“Sam? Samantha? What are you saying?” the nice guy asked, chuckling to himself on the fact that she’s speaking her thoughts out loud.

“Hm? Wha–?” Samantha broke out laughing.

William repeated himself, “Samantha, do you remember what you talking about?”

She picked up her head. Whoa, this is fun, she thought as she tried to concentrate on the answer. “I ha’....I ha’n’ gottaclue!” she slipped out as she roared with laughter again.  It was just so damn funny!

Wow, this is not taking long at all, William thought. Man, this is turning me on. She’s soooo damn sexy.

Samantha was trailing off her laugh. She looked through the fog in her head towards her host, sitting on the other side of the couch. He was soooo sexy. She never thought about guys like that before, but then again, she never felt like this before.

“[giggle] Yyy’knowhut? I’mmmm really hafin’ fun. Thangyouverymush.” She felt so sophisticated. She just smoothly brought her drink to her lips like Greta Garbo and sipped her sophisticated drink. She hoped he thought she was sophisticated, because . . . she was!

“You’re most welcome, hon,” William smiled. Her arm movements are getting more pronounced. William’s heart rate went up as he watched her use too much arc to bring her hand to her mouth. She obviously thinks she’s sexy . . . too bad she doesn’t realize she just bumped her upper lip with her glass. Her aim is off already, and she seems none-the-wiser. Keep drinking, honey.

Chapter 2

During the next 15 minutes or so, William was having a difficult time concentrating—not because of what he had to drink (he was still nursing his first rum-and-coke), but because of what was in front of him. He was sitting on the couch, turned such that he was directly facing one completely relaxed, completely loose, and completely smashed country girl.

“An an an . . . an nen he tol’ me . . . y’wannaknow whuh . . . whuh he tol’ me, Willie?  Hmm?” Samantha was pickled. She flailed her arms around as if she was telling a huge story about an amazing baseball catch. William loved it, though . . . not because she was spilling her drink and slurring like the town drunk, but because every time she swung herself around in exaggerated movements, those luscious boobs (which were bulging out of the top of her bra) bounced around deliciously. He was hooked. He couldn’t stop staring at them because she was now too blotto to notice.

“Heeeeyy!” Samantha exclaimed. William immediately looked up at Samantha. She was trying to look stern, but she had the “perma-smile” on and her eyes were at half-mast. Her head was moving ever-so-slightly because she was now getting too relaxed to keep her head perfectly upright and still.April smiled, accepting his explanation. She blinked again, obviously a little confused by the woozy feeling in her head. “Arrre youuuu lo-look’nna mah boobies?”

Busted! I can’t believe she actually saw me. How could I be so stupid?! Hey, what a minute, she’s trashed. How did she notice where I was looking?

“What?” William asked, too surprised and shocked to come up with anything more intelligent.

“IIII cau’ you. Y-you werrre look’n’ a’ my big boobiessss, were’n’ ya?” the drunk newbie slurred out as she waved her finger around in what was supposed to be a scolding manner.

“No! No I wasn’t!” he lied, wondering if he could confuse her. It didn't work—but hey, that was fine, too.

“Noooooooooooo,“ Samantha sloppily chided, followed by a drunken laugh. “Noooo, you wer—you were lllookin’ at my BIG BOOBALIES!” Samantha punctuated the last two words by nodding her head to make the point, not to mention squashed and shook one of her full tits with her free hand. Ha! She showed him. Then she took another drink in victory over catching him—even though her hand was still on her breast.

William couldn’t wait to do the same thing. He knew he had to be patient, but his lust was getting the better of him. His heart pounded in his chest. Man, he wanted her. If he could just wait a little longer.

“Well, they’re very nice,” he said nonchalantly.

“Well, thangu,” she replied in a matter-of-fact kind of way. She started motioning with her hand and arm before the words were coming out of her numb mouth. “Y’know, myyyy gra . . . my granfff . . . my . . . ” Samantha raised her eyebrows as far up as they would go while she tried her best to get the word “grandfather” out.

“Are you okay, Sam?” William smiled devilishly. Samantha gave him a lopsided smile with eyes at half-mast.

“Ovvvcourse Iam. Why?”

“Because you were having trouble with that word.”

“Whuwor’?” Samantha blinked slowly. Her brain was obviously floating in a cranium full of booze at this point.

“Aw, nothing. Go ahead and continue. You were saying something about your grandfather?”

“I wuzzz?” she asked, totally confused. “Oh.” Samantha looked away into some foggy realm trying to comprehend talking about her grandfather.

“Did he do or say something about your breasts?”

Samantha’s face lit up with a huge crooked smile, her head rolled around like it was barely attached, and both of her arms went up. It was amazing she didn’t spill the rest of her drink.

“Oooooooh yeeaaaaaaaahh!” she exclaimed happily. “Myyyy gra’fffuthuh . . . would . . . he . . . he said Iiiii shoul’ be a ladeh annnn’ no’ show off my breassss.” She was so proud of herself (although she didn’t know why).

“Why not? They’re beautiful!”

“Thangu, Billy boy. You’rrrrre soswee’ . . . sweet,” she said, with a face of drunken sincerity.

“You’re most welcome, my dear. I don’t know why your grandfather would tell you to hide your breasts. You’re a young, beautiful woman who should be proud of her figure. I think he was a little bit of a stick-in-the-mud.”

Samantha let out a deep, drunken laugh. “A stiginth’mud. Ha!”

William saw it was time to take advantage of her increasingly saturated brain. “A stick-in-the-mud! I’ll drink to that!” he exclaimed, holding up his glass.

“I’ll drin’ t’tha’!” Samantha repeated with a laugh. She downed the rest of her glass like a pro. Of course, she kept her head back and the glass to her mouth about 2 seconds longer than it needed to take to down the little bit that was left. Oh, yeah, she’s definitely sloshed now. She finally finished her task and sloppily wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Certainly not very lady-like.

“Mmmmmm, tha’wuz good,” she announced, with an air of satisfaction.

“Then I shall make you another!” William stated as he stood up and took her glass. Samantha looked lost for a moment and just blinked at him.

“Knnnowwhut?” she asked.

“No. What?" There was a momentary pause and the question answering a question made it’s way through her boozey brain.

“I . . . I haf . . . I haf t’go pee,” she haltingly announced.

“Oh, you have to go the bathroom? It’s right over there,” he pointed, motioning across the living room.

“Okay,” she sloppily smiled back. She shot up like rocket and suddenly started falling towards William. He quickly caught her and righted her. She started weaving dangerously and moaning, her eyebrows way up like she was surprised at what took place—whatever it was. She didn’t know.

“Hey there, sport, are you okay? Take it easy now.”

“Awrigh’ . . . spord! [giggle] Sporrrdy spor spor . . . spor,” Samantha replied, very pleased with herself that she can pick up on such funny words as “sport.” It was so cute. Sport. Everybody should say it.

“Okay, the bathroom’s over there. You go to the bathroom and I’ll pour you another drink.”

“Okey-dokey-doke, Willie Billy Billyboy,” she acknowledged with a giggle.

He watched her as she failed to negotiate her way around the coffee table, much less walk in a straight towards the bathroom door. She mumbled to herself and giggled the whole way. Her butt was wider than her hips and bounced with abandon as she attempted to stroll. She was very loose and obviously totally unaware of her inability to walk like a lady. Her uneven gate made her chest and her ass magnets for William’s eyes. She was incredibly sexy.

William went into the kitchen to create another strong rum-and-coke; however, it probably wasn’t necessary to make it too strong. Those first two did the trick quite nicely, thank you. She probably had the equivalent of 3 or 4 drinks, and being a light-weight, she really didn’t need much more help at this point. That thought was verified by the loud talking William heard coming from the bathroom. Samantha was very much holding a conversation with herself. By the level of loud talking, he wasn’t quite sure who was winning the argument (or whatever it was).

William finished making the final drink for his sexy, drunk-off-her-ass guest. He returned to the couch, waiting for the bouncy show that was soon to appear out of the bathroom. But he wasn’t expecting what he saw next.

Out came Samantha, involved in a discussion with herself, bouncing against the door frame, being very emphatic with her hand and arm gestures. For some unknown reason, she had taken off her shirt and was swinging it around in her right hand. Her tits were magnificent! Her bra was definitely too small to contain them. The breasts were oozing out either side of her cups and billowed up way above the top of each cup. As she erratically stepped forward, sideways, and backwards, trying to negotiate her way to the couch, her tits rolled, jiggled, swayed, and undulated freely. Her bra cups were desparately trying to hold them because they obviously couldn’t contain them.

“What happened to your shirt?” he wanted to know. Not that he cared, mind you.

“Iissss too hot!” Samantha blurted out.

“Why, yes it is,” he agreed. Watching her struggle to simply walk across the room made he want her all the more. She stopped in the middle of the room, swaying like a sailor keeping himself upright while riding out a huge storm at sea.

“Hey! Diiid I tellll . . . tell you . . . tell y’bou’ my papa?” she asked juicily. She blinked slowly with a face that look completely relaxed, like the dentist shot it full of novacaine.

“No. Who’s your papa?” William asked, knowing full well but wanting her to continue to prove how plastered she was.

“Heesss myyy gran . . . my granf . . . my ganffffadder,” she struggled to get out, as she sidestepped to the right. After all, her brain had to either talk or stand upright—not both.

“No, tell me about him,” he said, patting the seat cushion next to him, wanting her to sit right there.

“He’ssss jussanole goat!” she said with some degree of distaste. Her whole personality was changing, which William loved as much as her slurring. “He juss wan’n me t’be lock up in—in—in dat old . . . in dat . . . he wan’n me t’be a prizznor!” She plopped down very ungracefully next to him with an “oof!”

“An old goat?! Why was he so mean?” William wanted her to continue.

“B’cusssss . . . ” she trailed off, looking very drunkenly at him, as if he knew her thoughts.

“Because why?” he asked, staring at her big, full, gorgeous tits.

“Mmmmmm, becusss . . . becusss he did’n’ . . . would’n’ . . . let me play with these,” she slurred as she put both hands on her bra cups and jiggle her boobs. Wow, what a sight up close.

“Wow, that’s too bad. Here, have another drink,” William offered.

“Nnnnnn . . . nnnnn he would’n’ lemme hafff . . . hafff any boooooze, eeder,” she added as she blearily watched him hand her another drink.

“Geez, that’s no fun.”

Samantha’s hand was floppy and relaxed. She was going to drop the glass if he let her attempt to take it. Maybe that’s not a good idea.

“Nope. Thass no funatall. I juss wanna life my live,” she said. He waited for her to catch her mistake. She didn’t.

“Ya mean, like, drinking?” he asked her.

“Mm hm,” she nodded with a huge, stupid grin on her face.

“What happens if you get drunk?” he asked.

Samantha started giggling at that thought. “I’llll jusss ge’ drung!” Her giggles became small laughs.

“Getting drunk will be fun, ya think?” William inquired.

“Oooh, yesh!” She broke out laughing, finding it difficult to sit upright. It would be so much fun! Then she looked at him coyly, thinking that she must look really sexy right now, and asked, “Do you do you . . . d’you thing you c’n gemme drunk sommmetime?”

“Of course,” Harry promised. “How can I turn down such a beautiful woman?”

She just smiled that big, rum-induced smile at him, her eyes barely open.

“As a matter of fact, how can I turn down a girl who’s never been drunk before and has huge tits?” he asked.

“Mmm, I dunno,” Samantha chirped. She looked down at her cleavage, then gazed back at William with bleary eyes for several moments before her thought trudged down booze-soaked streets on the path to her mouth.

“I haff . . . biiiig boobalies. D’you li’ my tig bitties?  Oopshy, I mean . . . my tig . . . bitties! HIP! ’Shcuse me.”

“I absolutely love your big titties,” he confirmed, raising one hand up to squeeze and play with one of her bra cups.

“Mmmmm, tha’ feess ssso goooood,” she said, letting her head flop backwards, letting out another small hiccup.

“You like that?”

Samantha just moaned, “Mm-hmmm.”

“Sam, I bet you’ve never had sex, have you?” William asked, assuming he already knew the answer. Samantha giggled.

“Would you like me to show you what it’s like to let some guy play with your huge knockers?” he asked.

“Shhhhhurrrrrre, Willie-will-will.”

William wasted no time in reaching behind Samantha with both hands in making quick work in taking off the plastered female’s bra. Samantha was uttering nonsense at this point.  Good.  He loved the fact that she really didn’t know what was going on. William began to hold, squeeze, and jiggle those magnificent breasts of hers. He buried his face between them, then made his way to greedily sucking on her nipples.

“Ooooooooh,” Samantha let out, loosely flopping her hands behind his head, as if to make him continue. William was in boobie heaven.

Samantha’s hands slid down and flopped on either side of her as her drunken pleasure was heightened by William’s incessant playing with her huge tits. She would moan once in a while and slur something undecipherable, but he thought it was something like “feels so good.” He couldn’t really tell.

_______ oOo _______

William Johnson was incredibly turned on and sexually charged . . . as was William’s “Johnson.” He was so hard, he could hardly stand it. He just had to have her! So he stopped playing with her huge fun bags and prepared to stand up. Somehow, the lack of attention registered in the boozy brain of the first-time lush that was sprawled on the couch.

“Heeeyyyyyy, whydja . . . wh . . . whydja . . . whyyyyydja schtop? Pliz schuuuuuck my . . . mmmmmmmmy tizzzzzz. [giggle] Mmmy bih, bih . . . my big tizzzzz,” she slurred without shame. She’s definitely enjoy this, William mused as he admired her incredibly sexy figure and drunken state. Her eyelids looked as though they weighed 5 pounds each. Her mouth looked as though the doctor gave her 10 novacaine shots . . . and probably felt that way, too.

He bent over and grabbed around her chest and under her arms, and lifted her up off the couch into a standing position. Well, as much as a completely tanked woman can stand. Samantha was very floppy and loose. He could feel her weight—and definitely her tits—up against him. She was swaying all over the place, giggling and slurring something incoherently. The booze had obviously soaked her brain like a sponge under water. The alcohol hit her quickly, so that must have been what her grandfather was worried about. William had read a story once about a woman who got drunk three times faster than most because of a family trait. As he pondered this, he got increasingly excited that he may have hit the proverbial drunk chick jackpot. She suddenly started giggling and laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“Weeeeeeee!” she let out, dissolving into laughter again. William started towards the bedroom, carrying most of Samantha’s weight. Her legs somehow knew enough to move a little, but it was difficult to call it walking. She was somehow a tad more alert, although her drunkenness was still in control. William had to half-prop, half-lead his intoxicated sex goddess toward his bedroom. She was extremely unstable, which was wonderful because it made her huge, luscious boobs bounce around. He also loved feeling her generous hips bump up against him. He desperately wanted to know what her ass felt like. She wasn’t the only one getting courageous because of her drunken condition! While he was guiding her to the doorway of his bedroom, he felt her ass cheek.  Damn, it was nice. Just as he was grabbing some cock-inspiring butt, they bumped up against the door frame.

“Heyyyy!” Samantha sloppily let out. William thought he was caught. Dammit! He thought she was plastered!

“Do you do you . . . dooooo you wannnna kish me?” Releif. His intoxicated beauty was completely unaware of the amount of ass her handsome friend was grabbing.

She looked at him with some kind of inebriated sexiness that he just couldn't resist. “Of course I do!” he responded and planted a kiss on her swaying, booze-soaked lips. She clumsily wrapped her arms around him and responded (as best she could). This made William hornier than ever. He was losing control. He had to have her!

As quickly as he could, William broke off their sloppy kiss and tried to get her into the bedroom.

“Heeeyyyyyy, wh...wh . . . whera . . . wwwwwheeerrrrre are w’goin’?” she inquired, juicily.

“To my bedroom, honey. You wanted me to fuck your brains out, remember?”

“Oh, I—I—I dih?” she asked with a puzzled look on her face, all the while not sure of her surroundings or even why she was attempting to walk.

“Yes, you most certainly did,” he replied. “You want me to teach you about sex.”

“Oh! *giggle* Youuuuu sai’ sess!” the sloppy drunk blurted out, followed by a drunken laugh (more like a cackle).

“And you wanted me to teach you how to suck my cock,” he lied. This was just so much fun.

Samantha busted out laughing. “Y-y-yyyyyou sai’ COCK!” She just couldn’t stop laughing.

William got her to the edge of the bed. He sat down on the bed but held her facing him. She was constantly compensating for her unsteady perception of the floor. William was removing the rest of her clothing with shaking hands. She was soooo fuckin’ sexy: curvy, bouncy, and totally wasted!

He finally slipped off her small undies. It wasn’t a thong, but it might as well have been. Those bikini undies were cutting into her juicy hips and ass just right. It was almost a shame to take them off so soon—almost.

His gloriously inebriated goddess was trying hard yet unsuccessfully to stand upright and still. She looked like the floor was a sailing vessel’s storm-tossed deck. The best part was when she leaned and fell forward and leaned up against William. He was close to getting a faceful of boozey boobies. He wanted to attack her and suck more on those beautiful breasts, but he had to get his stupid clothes off.

William hurried while Samantha was on her own to stay upright. She looked like she wanted to say something, but her brain was floating and quite pickled. So she just swayed back and forth with heavy-lidded eyes that let him know she thought she was sexy, and her mouth was opened slightly like she started to speak, but no words were coming out.

William’s “Johnson” was standing at attention and made it difficult to remove his underwear, but where there’s a will (or a totally smashed vision of loveliness), there’s a way. He caught the swaying Samantha just in time, before she fell backwards.

“Whoa, girl! Come back to papa. That’s it. Now let’s—”

William couldn’t finish his sentence about getting her to sit on the bed. She fell on it, very ungracefully. He had to do some pulling and pushing and turning to get her on her back and in a decent position on the bed. She drunkenly giggled to herself. She was completely out of it, but smiling to herself.

The next couple of hours were spent introducing the heavily inebriated honey to the joys of sex. First was William’s cock, letting her touch it (because she was too wasted to grab it for a hand job), and showing her what it felt like in her mouth. Even though it was her first time, William thought she did fairly well (aside from her inability to really do good job sucking and her eyes crossing, that is). She surely won’t remember it tomorrow, but he can tell her she did it. Next was screwing her brains out. She was too plastered to do much of anything other than lay there and let William screw her petrified brains out. She moved or even flailed her arms a little, let out all sorts of moans, and even barely said “fu’ me, fu’ me, fuuug meee” a few times.

William sure did. He made those huge titties bounce back and forth on her chest for what seemed like hours. He rammed her, came like a stallion, and then played with her big jugs until he got hard again, then started the cycle over. Sometimes he tried to get her to speak; her slurring and almost inperceptible babbling always got him excited and primed for another round.

William couldn’t wait to see if she would remember how much she enjoyed herself . . . or if he could convince her to do it again. Welcome to the big city, little Country Girl.

The End.

_______ oOo _______

Will there be a Chapter 3?  Perhaps . . .

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