Christine Carole

By Stanmaps

Mike is visited by a girl from his grammar school when his Mom throws a Christmas party. My how she's changed. 

"A little smile, a little beer,
A bit of weed from someone near, 
A little kiss from one held dear,
Best wishes for the cumming year." 

PROLOGUE

A FADED MEMORY

Christine Carole, Christine Carole, Christine Carole...

Hmmmm, I hadn't thought about her for years.

What little and faded memory I had of Christine was that thin, meek, frail, and awkward girl with the thick glasses and braces. The one who sat in the back of class and blended in with the wall. The one who used her extremely long hair to shield herself from the world. The one who was always forgotten for class projects and picked last for teams. 

I think she was voted most likely to fade away.

That's about all I can remember about her from grade school. She was that non-descript and uninvolved. Even in the grade school yearbook, there was only one picture of her.

That was the Christine Carole I could barely remember in grade school. 

I wanted nothing to do with her. 

Nothing at all.

And then this Christmas happened...

CHAPTER 1:

THE MOST WONDERFUL DAY OF THE YEAR

My Mom is a real estate agent. Every year about a week or so before Christmas she throws a neighborhood party. It's a big deal. She spends days setting up the house, buying food and beverages, and making sure the Christmas decorations are all up. 

Although it's a party, it's actuallyall business. It's how she keeps her name in front of all her clients and would-be clients. All older people. So I try to stay out of the way, which is hard because each year the party gets bigger and bigger. Still, the party only takes over the first floor, leaving the basement as my sole getaway. I usually say my hellos, grab some food, and make myself scarce by holding up downstairs. It was my own personal Christmas party bomb shelter. I wouldn’t come up until my Mom needed help with cleaning. 

I of course get stuck helping her though. And this year was no exception. I was on winter break from my first semester at college and so it was inevitable that I would spend the day helping my Mom set up. 

"Where do you get all these folding chairs?" I asked. 

"I borrow them," my Mom said as she centered a santa sleigh and reindeer knick-knack on top of the fireplace mantel. 

"How many people do you expect this year?"

"Easily about 150 or 200," she said turning toward me. "But not all at once. People drop in and people head out. Just like in past years."

I spent the rest of the afternoon helping her. By evening the caterer arrived and the house smelled delicious. The dining room table became the buffet. You name it and we had it. There was chili, turkey, ham, potatoes, salad, fruits, vegetables, and the requisite cranberry jello. But that was just the food. The desert spread had to sit on a folding table outside the dining room. 

My Mom went all out as usual. 

"I think this is going to be the biggest one," she said as she stood in the living room surveying the scene. "It's certainly the biggest spread I've put out." 

It wasn’t long before people started showing up. Mrs. Patterson was always the first. Every year she insisted on helping out. About a half an hour later, the flood gates opened and people started pouring in. My Mom was in her element. Soon, the house was a buzz with the din of conversation. 

That was usually my cue to get the hell out of there and head downstairs. The longer I stuck around, the more I'd have to answer questions about how college was going so far, what I was majoring in, and what I hoped to be when I grew up. Worse, I’d have to hear, “My have you grown” and “I remember you when you were just 10 years old.” 

No thanks. 

There was no way to catch my Mom's attention and give her the heads-up that I was heading downstairs. She was lost in a sea of people, greeting people in the hall and pointing them to the food and drink in the living room. I slipped passed a few neighbors I didn't recognize, opened the basement door, and walked through to freedom. I turned around and slowly shut the door. The sound of everyone talking thankfully reduced a few decibels.

I hopped down the stairs and turned on the TV. There had to be something on. 

Just when I was about to get settled, I heard the sound of the crowd upstairs get louder. Someone had opened the door. 

“Michael!” I heard my Mom call down. I muted the TV. 

“What?”

“Can you come here a second? I’d like you to meet some people.”

Oh no. This was new. She usually left me alone.

"Really?" I called up, hoping she'd leave me alone.

"Just for a second."

I shut off the TV and half-heartedly made my way to the foot of the stairs.

"I'd like you to meet my son," I heard my Mom say as she stood with the door in hand talking to someone to her left that I couldn't see. She then disappeared from view.

This better be good, I thought as I dutifully marched up the stairs. 

I made my way to the top of the stairs and found my Mom in the hall. “There you are Micheal,” my Mom said. “I’d like you to meet Mrs. Carole.”

Mrs. Carole was about my Mom’s age. She reached out her hand, “Hi, it’s nice to meet you.” 

“And this is her daughter Christine,” my Mom continued as Mrs. Carole stepped out of the way. “I’m sorry, hon, it’s Christine right? I got that right?”

“Yes, Christine,” Mrs. Carole's daughter said slightly raspy voice.  

It was at that moment, when I saw Christine, I instantly awoke from the routine. Mrs. Carole had stepped out of the way to reveal the cutest, prettiest girl I had ever laid eyes on! Christine was gorgeous. She had long brown hair that framed her cute, girl-next-door face. Her eyes were...well, her eyes were there, but you see, my own eyes have a mind of their own.

Now I take pride in being a breast connoisseur. I know, and like, big breasts. I can spot a monumental pair a mile away. I'm especially good at sweater-meat judging. I can discern when a girl has a huge rack that she's trying desperately to cover up with a bulky sweater and when the girl is trying deperately to cover up her big belly. And, I can do this in mere seconds -- without the girl I'm eyeing even suspecting anything. So, when Mrs. Carole stepped out of the way I only had a second to take in her face before my instinct kicked in and caught what was happening under Christine's wool sweater. With a quick glance, I instantly realized there, standing before me, was the biggest boobs I had ever seen to date. 

While my mind was busy processing this information, my body already was reacting. I felt myself get weak in the knees and I could feel my heart pumping. Big breasts do this to me. 

Luckily, I was on autopilot and my eyes quickly returned to greet Christine's face. 

Ah, blue green eyes...

Christine stood there with her hands clasped in front of her and innocently looked over at me. Her beautiful red lips parted as she gave me a cute little smile.

"Hi," I heard myself say. "I'm Mike. It's nice to meet you." For one of the first times ever in my life, I truly meant it was nice to meet her. 

But just then, as my mind was just getting back in focus, my Mom sent it off in a tailspin once again. 

“Don't you remember her?" she asked. "Christine went to Parkers with you. You grew up together.”

What? 

What was my Mom talking about? 

Surely I would remember this beautiful, voluptuous girl!

Christine blushed as she looked at my Mom. She then smiled and looked me straight in the eyes. “Yes, I remember Mikey.”

Without thinking I corrected her, “It’s Mike.”

“That’s right," my Mom said. "Michael goes by Mike now. He's a freshman at State College.” Okay, my Mom was embarrassing me. 

"Oh, State College," Mrs. Carole beamed. "Christine here is a freshman at Brighton."

"Oh, I heard very good things about Brighton. Pretty far away though. How do you like it so far Christine?" my Mom asked.

"It's great," she said. "It's a lot of fun."

"I bet it is," my Mom smiled. "What are you majoring in?"

My Mom, Mrs. Carole, and Christine proceeded to have a conversation in front of me but I didn't hear it. My mind was busy putting two and two together and nonchalantly looking Christine over. As soon as my Mom mentioned the name of my junior high, Parker, things started clicking. There was a Chrissy in my school, but was this the same Christine? Even though it was only five years ago, it was hard to imagine the two girls were the same. Chrissy had thick glasses. Christine didn't. Chrissy had ugly braces. Christine had perfect teeth. Chrissy was skinny, nearly anemic. Christine was voluptuous beyond belief, with a healthy face and big, bountiful breasts. 

Still, a lot can happen in five years. It was just very hard to believe Chrissy grew up into the gorgeous, well-rounded girl who was was standing in front of me.

"Mike?" I heard my Mom say. 

I realized then all three of them were looking at me. 

"Huh?" I said. 

"Mrs. Carole asked what was your major?" my Mom prompted.

"Oh, uh, business," I answered. But I didn't look at Mrs. Carole, I looked at Christine. Our eyes met and I caught myself smiling. Christine smiled back.

"That's a good one," Mrs. Carole replied. "Sounds like you have a smart young man there." 

"Oh my, where are my manners?" my Mom then said. "Would you two like some food or something to drink? Please, there’s a ton of food. There’s soda over in the corner."

“How’s that punch I heard so much about?” Mrs. Carole asked with a sly smile.

“It's in the bowl in the living room," my Mom answered. "A word of warning. I think I accidentally put in a bit too much alcohol this year, so watch yourself!” As she said that, my Mom was glancing back toward the open front door. She noticed more people had come in that she needed to greet. She then turned to Christine and me. “Listen, it’s all us boring older people up here, so Michael, why don’t you take Christine downstairs, watch some TV, and hang out or something.”

"I'll be up here honey. I saw Mrs. Anderson and Mrs. Poliark over by the food when I came in, so I better go run and talk to them." 

And with that my Mom and Christine's Mom left the two of us standing in the hall together. 

I didn’t have the faintest clue what to say. There stood the most gorgeous girl I’d ever seen. No one in my first semester on campus even came close to what Christine had. Nope. Christine was it. She was a woman in every sense of the word. 

Finally, Christine broke the awkward silence. “Your Mom said we could get some food and head downstairs.”

“Yeah,” I said still fumbling for words. 

“Is that cool?”

“Cool?” I stammered. I was barely talking. “Oh, yeah. Just grab anything you want and we’ll head down."

“Good, because I’m famished,” she said. 

CHAPTER 2:

WE WISH YOU A MERRY CHRISTINE

Christine and I went around the food table. I watched as she stacked her plate. My Mom’s famous roast beef sandwich, mashed potatoes, green beans, chili, some potato chips, some jello, the list went on and on.  It was starting to dawn on me how she managed to go from frail, little Chrissy in junior high to the round, shapely Christine who now stood in front of me. 

“Oh chocolate,” she squealed with her raspy voice. “I love chocolate.” Christine set her dinner plate down and grabbed another plate for desert. Soon that plate was also piled high with two pieces of pie -- key lime and pumpkin -- some brownies, a cookie, some Hershey kisses, and a scoop of ice cream.

"Here, let me carry that for you," I offered. 

Christine handed me her plate. I couldn't help but notice that it contained twice as much food as I had. It must have bothered her because she said, "I didn't eat lunch."

We headed downstairs to the basement. I tried my best not to spill any food from the two plates and her with her dish of deserts. I let her go first, just to be polite. As I followed her down the stairs I couldn't help but notice how tight her jeans were and the way they showed off her large -- but shapely -- ass. There was no doubt about it, Christine was the definition of curves.

And that only made me more excited.

The basement didn't have a table, but it did have a bar. I set the plates down on top of the bar and walked around it to sit on the bartender stool. "We can sit here. The stools are actually comfortable."

Christine set her mountain of deserts down and took off her purse, which she set on the bar. “Shoot, I didn’t get anything to drink,” she said. 

“Oh, I can run up and get us some soda,” I said, already jumping off my stool. 

“Soda?” she said with a puzzled look. “Serious?”

“What?” I paused. 

“There’s fruit punch up there.”

“Yeah, but that’s got --,” I started to say.

“Alcohol?” she finished my sentence.

“Yeah, alcohol.”

Christine gave me a funny look. I felt like I didn't pass some test. 

She stood up out of the stool. “Look, I'll get it," she said as she started walking back toward the stairs. "You want me to bring you a glass of punch too?” 

I didn’t know what to say. "Um, okay."

Christine marched back upstairs. 

I sat there and went over the conversation in my mind. I felt like I blew it. There was no way I came off as cool. I would have to temper that. It's just I never drank my Mom’s Christimas fruit punch. Not that I didn't drink. I just normally don't think of the annual Christmas party in the same way as I did say, a college party. And then there was the fact that the last time I saw Christine I was in eighth grade. Alcohol and eighth grade just weren't associated together in my mind. But then, it was five years on and, well, my how things changed. 

After a few minutes, Christine came down with the drinks. I heard her walking slowly down the stairs and wondered what was taking so long. Only when she came into view did I realize: she was carrying not two but four plastic cups of fruit punch! 

“I got us some extras,” she said with a smile. 

Cool. Be cool.

"Don't worry, nobody saw me get these," she said as she set the four plastic cups down on the bar without spilling a drop. They were filled to the rim! She looked up at me with a smile, obviously proud of the fact. "That's what having a waitress job does for you."

"You're a waitress?" I asked.

"Not now, but I was through high school," she replied handing me one of the plastic cups. "Cheers," she said. 

We both clinked plastic cups and took a sip. Well, I took a sip. "Ah," I said. If there was one thing my Mom did it was make some strong punch!

It was then I noticed Christine was still chugging hers. I watched as she drank half of it before setting it down. “Weak,” she said.

Weak?

Did she just say weak?

“Sorry to say this dude, but your Mom’s Christmas punch lacks the punch. It’s all fruit juice.”

Did she just call me dude?

“Really?” I took another sip myself. From the slight burning of my throat, I could taste the alcohol. It was definitely there. Many different types in fact.

“What do they have behind there?” she asked.

“Behind where?” I said.

Christine laughed out loud. Her laugh was raspy, like that of an older person. I couldn’t quite place it. “There, behind the bar.”

“Oh,” I said looking around. “Um, there’s some whiskey, some gin, some vodka, some - ,”

“Vodka. Perfect,” she said holding her fruit punch glass out toward me. “Fill ‘er up.”

Cool. Be cool. 

I grabbed the bottle. It was pretty full, so I guess my parents wouldn’t miss much if I poured some in. I gave her what I thought was a shot and capped the bottle. 

“Um, like right,” she said still holding the cup out expecting more. 

It was starting to dawn on me that this Christine was not the same quiet little Christine as upstairs, let alone junior high. 

I removed the cap again and filled her cup to the top with vodka. 

“Thanks,” she said with a smile. I immediately got lost in her two cute dimpled cheeks. 

“Do you have a stirrer?” she asked. 

“A stirrer?” I looked around the bar. I had no idea what she was talking about. 

“Behind you,” she said patiently. 

I turned around. Sure enough, on the back shelf there was a cup with plastic rods in them. What I took to be stirrers. I handed one to her. 

“Thanks,” she said again as she began stirring her fruit punch. 

“Merry Christmas,” she said as she lifted the glass. 

I raised mine. “Merry Christmas."

"And, to old friends," she said with a smile.

"Yeah, old friends," I said even though I really would never have thought of her as my friend back in junior high. I barely knew her or paid attention to her back then!

We clinked our plastic cups and with a big smile she began to down the entire glass! I stood there and watched in amazement.

Within mere moments, she set her empty cup down, gave me a “that’s how you do it” look, and proceeded to take a seat on her stool. “Mmmm, now that's strong," she said. She reached up and ran her hand over her throat. "It’s so warm,” she said closing her eyes in the process. 

I watched as Christine opened her eyes and leaned forward toward the bar. “Now that’s how we make fruit punch at the sorority,” she said smiling at me. 

Sorority? 

Meek, little, shy, little Christine Carole was in a sorority? I couldn’t believe it. 

Christine had definitely changed in more ways than one!

“I didn't know you were in a sorority,” I said.

"Why would you?" she asked. "You don't know much about me."

She was right.

"All you know is we went to Parker together."

I nodded and set my drink down on the bar. 

"But I'm not the same girl I was back then, you know. I changed," she said rather confidently. 

She had definitely changed all right! 

"Do you even remember me in junior high?" she asked as she poured half of her second cup of fruit punch into her first.

I didn't know what to say. Should I tell her the truth? That no, I didn't really remember her? Or, should I play it cool and nonchalant. I opted for nonchalant. "Yeah, of course."

"Oh come on," she said with a smile. "You barely knew who I was. I was just the little girl in the back row that everybody picked on and the mean girls tormented."

"There were mean girls in our school?" I asked. I didn't realize that.

"Oh God. Hello? You kidding me? Sarah? Teresa?"

"I liked Sarah and Teresa," I said. I actually hung out with them. And then, I realized I probably shouldn't have said that.  

"Of course. Why wouldn't you?" she said a bit hurt. Christine grabbed the vodka bottle began to fill both cups back up to the rim!

"I mean, I remembered them. That's all I was saying."

"Well, yeah, and you liked them," she said with a frown as she set the vodka bottle back on the table with a clank. "Admit it Michael. Sarah especially."

"Well, yeah, I liked them both. And Sarah was cool." God, she had me on the ropes! "But it's not like I liked them liked them." 

"Oh come on, you totally liked them liked them!"

"No, really, I didn't like them like them. I only liked them," I repeated, standing my ground. 

Just then we realized what we sounded like. Both Christine and I busted out laughing. 

"Dude, we totally regressed there to junior high," Christine laughed. 

"Yeah we did," I said with a smile. "That was a long time ago."

"You don't still keep in contact with Sarah or Teresa, do you?" she asked.

"What? No," I said. "The only person I still talk to on occasion is Brian."

"Brian? Really?" she asked with a smile.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Wait, what? You can't say nothing."

"Sure I can. Nothing. There I said it again."

There was obviously more there. I could sense it. "Hey wait, did you have a thing for Brian?"

Christine blushed. "Me? Brian? Come on."

"You did, didn't you?" I could read it in her face. 

"Listen, Michael. Just like you, Brian didn't even know I was alive."

"Hey, I knew you were alive," I said. Okay, it was kinda a lie, but I knew it was the right thing to say. 

"Whatever. You - and all the other guys in class - including Brian, didn't notice me ever or wanted anything to do with me."

She had me. 

"See," she said pointing at me. "Look, it's okay. I'm not that sad little girl anymore." 

And with that I swear Christine purposely stretched and put her arms behind her head on purpose. I tried to fight it, but my eyes betrayed me. I was a boob connoisseur after all. I couldn't help but stare at Christine's huge breasts tucked under her sweater as she leaned backwards. "Oh my back," she said in a rather phony way. 

I grabbed my drink and this time I chugged it!

"Sometimes my back hurts a bit, but I don't know why," she said seemingly innocently. 

I continued to drink. Stare at the cup, stare at the cup, I repeated to myself. 

She finally relaxed her back and sat back in the chair normally. 

I set my drink down and coughed. I couldn't tell if it was from the alcohol in the punch or from what she just did. 

"Here," she said as she grabbed my second glass and poured half of it into the one I just emptied. I wasn't quite sure what she was doing until she grabbed the vodka bottle and began topping up both of our plastic cups. 

"Whoa, wait," I said trying to wave her off.

"Don't be such a wuss, Mikey," she said. "This makes your Mom's punch better, believe me." 

Did she just call me a wuss? Did she just call me Mikey?

"You know, you're the first person I've seen from Parker since we graduated," she continued. "All my friends now are from the sorority up at college. I only keep in touch with a few people from high school, but no one from Parker." She pushed my cup back over to me and grabbed one of her full cups of vodka and fruit punch. "Here's to moving on with our lives," she said.

"Yes, okay. I can drink to that. Here's to moving on," I replied with a smile. 

We both sat there with drinks in hand looking at each other, smiling. Then, as if we both had the same thought that we had sat there a bit too long gazing at one another, we broke it off and took sips of our drink. 

Well, again, I took a sip. The drink she made was half vodka and it was strong - too strong. I looked up and Christine kept chugging and chugging, until she had downed the entire thing! 

"Ahhhh," she said as she shuttered and shivered from chugging so much alcohol. "Love it." 

And then without pause, she began pouring half of her second cup of fruit punch and vodka back into the one she just emptied!

"Geez, where did you learn to drink like that?" I said. 

Christine was still reeling from chugging her entire drink. Her eyes were starting to water, but she was smiling as she poured the vodka. "I’m a sorority girl, I told you. I'm a Tri Delt. I rushed this summer and once I get back from Christmas break, we start our hell week.”

“Hell week?”

“You’re not in a fraternity I take it?” she asked. 

“No, I’ve just been focused on school,” I said paying more attention to what she was doing with her drinks. 

“Hell week is basically one big long sleep deprived week of partying. We Tri Delts are big into having a good time and the older sisters want to make sure we can hang with them,” she said as she finished filling both cups back up to the top with vodka. “Oh, and to make us like each other better. It’ll be a fun, drunken, messed up week!”

“Sure. Sounds like fun," I said rather sarcastically. "Um, what are you doing there?"

Christine looked up at me. "Where?"

"There," I said pointing at her two full cups of vodka and some fruit punch. "You just drank that entire thing of fruit punch and vodka and now you're doing the same thing again - but adding even more vodka. Both of those cups there are now mostly vodka you know, with like, punch flavoring."

"Oh," she said. "Are you worried that I'm taking too much of your parent's vodka? I can buy them some more easily, if it's a problem."

"Uh, no. I was just saying that --," I stammered. 

Cool. Just be cool.

"I can tell you're not in a fraternity because if you were in, you'd know all about waterfalling," she said. 

"Waterfalling?" 

"Yeah, it gets you drunk pretty quickly," she said as she grabbed the vodka bottle and began filling my cup to the top. "That's why I brought two plastic cups for each of us. I thought you'd want to do it too. It's the only way to drink." 

"Okay...," I stammered. 

"What are you worried about?" she said as she set the vodka bottle back down in front of her. 

"Our Moms are upstairs, that's all," I said.

"Oh God, don't worry about them. We're at a party, Michael. There's got to be a bunch of people up there getting shit-faced." Christine lifted up her second cup. “Cheers,” she said. 

I reluctantly held up my cup. 

She gave me a frown. "We need a toast," she said. “Listen, how about: here's to Christmas punch.”

“Actually, see it's not really legal for us to be drink --," I said. 

Christine shook her head and started laughing. "God, you really are a wuss, aren't you? I would never have guessed you would have changed this much, Mikey."

"What? I'm not a wuss."

"Yes you are."

"No I'm not."

"Are to."

"Am not!" I said. 

And then once again, we both busted out laughing. 

"We did it again," Christine laughed. "We just revert to junior high just like that," she said as she snapped her fingers.

"It's weird."

"Here, drink up," Christine said pointing at my cup and getting all serious. "But this time, chug it, won't you?" she said mockingly. "You don't want a girl out doing you, do you?" And then added, with a big, gorgeous, dimpled smile, "Wuss."

I smiled back, grabbed the cup and nodded my head. With that we both chugged our vodka-reinforced drinks. The burn kicked in almost immediately, but I was determined to chug the whole thing. I wasn't going to be out done! 

We both set our empty cups down on the bar at the same time and began laughing, gasping, and coughing. Our eyes watered and a shiver went up and down my spine. The only difference between us was Christine's large breasts joyfully heaving and wobbling under her sweater with each cough. 

For a few moments we were both a mess. 

But even as a mess, Christine was absolutely gorgeous. 

“Whoa, see, that one was stronger,” she said once again with a smile as she looked at me. 

I looked at the vodka bottle sitting on the table. There was a lot gone. And most of it was in Christine.

We sat there gazing at each other across the bar. I couldn't tell if it was the alcohol starting to course through my system, but I swear I felt something between us. A spark. Even though I went to school with her many years ago, it was as if we were meeting for the first time. 

And, in many ways, we were. 

CHAPTER 3:

JINGLE BOOBS

"Ah, there'sch the buzz," Christine said leaning back happily in the chair. 

My stomach growled. With all the drinking, I had forgotten about all the food we brought down. "Hey, let's eat. All this food's been sitting here." I dove into my roast beef sandwich. 

"Mmmmm," she cooed. 

"Yeah, it's good, huh?" I said trying not to talk with food in my mouth. My Mom's roast beef sandwich was famous in our family for being so tasty. 

"Mmmmm yeeaahh, water'fallin' al'way'sch hit'sch me pret'ty hard."

I looked up and realized that all Christine's "mmmm-ing" wasn't about how good the food was. She was still leaning back in the chair with a big smile on her face. She wasn't eating yet! She was "mmmm-ing" the alcohol buzz that was washing over her. 

"You okay?" I asked, with food in my mouth.

"God, I luv that feeling of the al'cohol taking over," she said. Her cheeks were getting flush. It was pretty apparent the alcohol was finally kicking in. And, from the look of it, all at once. "Sometimes I think it'sch bad to like it that mu'ch, but then all the other girls I know luv it too," she said.

I looked at her smiling back at me.

"I wunder if it aff'ects guys like it does girls," she continued to say.

"Uh," I said. "I think it affects girls more than guys. You know, faster. Something about enzymes or soluble fat or something." 

"Re'ally?" she said giving me another big dimpled smile. "Y'et 'nother re'ason it'sch go'od to be a g'irl," she slurred as she leaned forward, her huge breasts pushing her plate forward toward me in the process. 

Her plate knocked mine and so I reached up and grabbed it before it fell over onto my lap.

"Ooop'sch," she said with a giggle. "My b'ad."

I set my plate down in such a way so if she leaned forward again, it couldn't knock her plate into mine. Her breasts had gotten so big since junior high. They obviously had a mind of their own. 

"I git a li'ddle clu'mpsy when I dr'ink," she apologized. 

Cool. Be cool. 

"Don't worry about it, Christine. Everyone does. Just take a breather now." I was a bit concerned that Christine was getting hammered so quickly. And why wouldn't she be? I mean, she drank so much so fast. "You know, have something to eat. It'll help a bit."

“Na, I’m na real'ly hun'gry,” she said as she drunkenly shook her head. 

I laughed. "Not hungry, yeah, that's a good one," I said as I looked over all the food she had taken downstairs. She needed to get something into her stomach other than booze.

But she was oblivious to my comment. I watched as she momentarily closed her eyes and then reopened them. She was flush and starting to sweat. It was as if another wave of alcohol had attacked her brain. "Dammm," she said, as she tried to focus on me. "I li'ke get'ting drun'g, dude," she said with a big smile.

"Pardon?" I asked. 

"Iz it warm in here?" she asked as she sat up and tugged at her sweater. 

"A little. Yeah, I guess," I answered. 

"Okay. That'sch good to know 'cause I'm re'ally hot," she said. 

Hot was an understatement. She was stunning! 

Of course, I realized pretty quickly that wasn't exactly what she meant as I watched Christine drunkenly reached down and in one clumsy swoop, pull her sweater off over her head. 

Instantly I was met with a very revealing white tank top with the most cleavage I’ve ever seen spilling out of it! 

I was flabbergasted. I stopped chewing. This was not beanpole Chrissy from junior high! She had developed – no, overdeveloped – the largest set of knockers I had ever seen in real life. They were unbelievable! And yet, they were right there! Jiggling in front of me! Just a few feet away! They were so ample and beautiful, I could just reach out and grab them!

“Th’ere,” she said as she adjusted her tank top to cover up parts of her bra that were showing. "That'sch bet'ter."

I stood there stunned. Somewhere there were flat-chested women wondering why they never developed breasts. And I was looking at the reason. Before Christine was born she stood in the breast line and stole her allotment! She went back for seconds and thirds! She had enough breast flesh for three or four women combined! She was the epitome of a woman - no, the exaggeration really. 

I couldn't help myself. I couldn't tell if it was the alcohol coursing through my veins or just the mesmerizing sight of her huge boobs under the tank top staring right across the bar from me, but the words just came pouring out of my mouth, “Christine, you look spectacular."

Christine's hair got messed up in the process of disrobing, but it made her all the cuter. “Thank’sch,” she slurred with a smile.

"I mean it, wow," I continued. 

Christine smiled drunkenly. "I toldja I wasn't that lit'tle girl nanymore from Pa'rker."

I grabbed my second drink. It was my turn to propose a toast. "Here's to growing up," I said as I lifted my cup into the air. 

"An' out!" Christine laughed as she thrusted her chest toward me. Her huge boobs knocked her cup, causing it to spill across the bar. "Awww, shit," she said as she quickly grabbed the cup with both hands to stop it from spilling more. 

"Here," I said as I grabbed a napkin and began mopping it up. 

But Christine wasted no time. She was already repouring more vodka into her cup to make up for what was lost!

Sure enough, she drunkenly ended up pouring too much in the cup, spilling even more on the bar! 

I reached out to steady the bottle, but she pulled it back. "Heeey, m'ine!" she said jokingly, cradling the bottle in her arms and giving it a huge hug. The bottle mashed up against her huge breasts and momentarily got lost in her cleavage. 

For a moment I wished I was that vodka bottle!

"Sorry," I said. "I wasn't going to take it away. I wa just going to pour it for you." I grabbed another napkin and mopped up the spillage. 

"Awww, that'sch sh'weet," she said.

And then she did the weirdest thing. 

She looked at the vodka bottle in her hand and then slowly put the tip of the bottle in her mouth and began thrusting it back and forth - as if giving it oral pleasure!I watched stunned as she did it for awhile until she opened her eyes and seemingly realized what she was doing with a shock. She looked a bit embarrassed and let out a big, raspy laugh as she set the vodka bottle down on the bar. 

I stood there with raised eyebrows.

Christine was red-faced and swayed on the chair stool. It was pretty obvious she was now hammered if she was doing stuff like that, getting drunker with each passing second. "Sor'ry," she said in between giggles. "I dont kno'why, but it juss re'minded me of giving a blow job."

Did she just say blow job?

Realizing what she said, she started to back pedal. "Na tha' I'm goin' to give you one," she continued. "I juss --," and then she stopped. "Oh fu'g it. I don't know why I juss did that. I'm drun'g I think," she said and laughed some more.

Hey, if she was thinking blow jobs, that was totally fine with me, I thought! I didn't know what to say, so I laughed along with her which seemed to help make the awkwardness pass. 

"Hey look, you should probably have something to eat," I said again as I reached out and carefully set her drink to the side so she wouldn't knock it over with her breasts if she leaned forward again.

"Heeeey, wait," she slurred, watching me move her drink away. "Wha about our t'oast?" 

"Well, don't you think you should eat first? Then we can-,"

"We w'ere goin' to toast to being all grow'n up!" Christine said trying to regain her composure. 

"Yeah, but --."

"Well, I'm all grow'n up," she said trying hard not to slur anymore. Christine reached out and clumsily grabbed the cup. She raised it up into the air, her huge breasts once again jutting out, teasing and distracting me. "Cheer'sch!"

And with that Christine began chugging her drink!

She drank about half of it before I managed to pull the cup away from her. Luckily, she was too drunk and focused on the burning sensation to protest what I was doing. She sat back in the chair stool, her head swaying and swimming in alcohol. She was bombed and it was obvious that she liked it!

"I'm drun'g," she said as she laid both of her hands on her small belly. 

I could only smile.

"You th'row a g'ood parteee, Mikeeey." 

"Look, I really think it's a good idea if you eat something," I said, putting the drink far from her reach. 

Christine drunkenly wiped her mouth with her arm. "But I'm na hungry."

Not hungry? Was she serious?

"But you grabbed all this food here. You said you were famished. Remember?" I asked pointing at the spread in front of her.

“Well, I'm not hu'ngree y'et,” she said. She then looked around the room for some reason as if looking to see if anyone else was around. She then leaned in toward me, her huge boobs bellying up to the bar. Then, in a whisper, she said, “I wa'sh go'ing to t'alk to you 'bout that.”

“Talk about what?”

“Shhhhhhh,” she said as she drunkenly leaned in closer, her huge breasts creeping ever closer, thrusting her ample cleavage even closer to my face. “I hav' an deating nisorder.”

"A deating nisorder?" I asked.

Christine closed her eyes and re-concentrated. "An eating dis'order."

“You have an eating disorder?” I asked out loud. How the hell could that be?

“Shhhhhhhhhhh!” she scolded me abruptly sitting back up in the chair stool. 

“You have an eating disorder,” I whispered.

Christine once again leaned toward me, her boobs mashing up and spilling over the bar. “Yeah. An neat'ing nisorder. I have li'ke no app'tite so I us'ually don’t eat.”

I decided to let "papatite" go. I sat there puzzled. She was a pretty hefty girl and I wasn’t buying it. 

Again she whispered. "I n'eed to take med'nicine to eat.”

“Medicine? Really? To eat?” I said wondering where this was going. "Most people just use their forks and knives."

"Shhhhh," she said. "Don't be fun'ny, Mik'ey. You k'now wha I'm tal'kin' about. I juss don't git hun'gree. Tha' wass'ch my prob'lem grow'ing up. W'hy I was'h sh'o th'in nall the time. I couln't grow up," she said in all drunken seriousness.

"I see," I said although I really didn't. 

“An, you know wha? It work'sch!” she said as she leaned backwards into the chair stool. “I’ve be'en finally gain'ing weight. Seeeee?” she asked as she drunkenly waved her arms along the sides of her body, emphasizing her massive breasts.

“Wait, you actually want to gain weight? Isn't that the opposite of an eating disorder?”

Christine leaned back into the bar, this time a bit too fast. Her giant boobs preventing her from getting any closer to me. "Ou'ch," she said and then giggled. She looked at me straight in the eyes and said, "Wait, wha were you say'in'?"

"Isn't gaining weight the opposite of an eating disorder?"

"Seeee, tha's wha I thought," she slurred. "But it turns out, na wanting to eat is a dis'order too. Don’t you 'member how sk'inny I was M'ikey? I was li'ke that in high sch'ool too. I wa'sh sick'ly. Ev'fryone ig'nored me.”

“They did?” I feigned surprise. 

“Yeaaahhh, duh. I wa'sch the ‘nerd’ 'member? The ‘be'an'pole’ and ‘b'races face’ an' whatever else you guy'sch called me.”

Whoa, I totally remembered calling her braces face back in junior high. That was mean of me.

“Na mat'ter wha I did I couldn’t eat 'nough. I ne'ver wanna'ed to eat. But then, this'ch pass Spring, my friend Mary sh'ow'd me sum'thing that act'uary would make me hun'gry.”

“Okay,” I said mesmerized at braces face’s story. "What was that?"

"All I n'eed to do iz take my med'ishun."

"Okay, well you should do it. Take it. Take whatever pill it is because I think it's important you get some food in your stomach," I said. She needed something to soak up and slow down the alcohol heading to her brain. She wasn't making much sense!

Christine sat back and beamed a big dimpled smile. “Co'ol,” she said as she grabbed her purse and drunkenly began rooting through it for her medicine. 

I took another bite of my sandwich and then, she found it. 

Whoa.

She pulled out a small pipe and a ziplock baggie!

“Here it i'sh,” she smiled, her face was flush from the alcohol.

"Um...," was all I could say. 

CHAPTER 4: 

IT'S BEGINNING TO LOOK A LOT LIKE CHRISTINE...IS INTO DRUGS

“Whoa, wait. Pot? Marijuana? That’s your medicine?” I was shocked. This was not the Christine Carole I remembered from junior high!

“Yeeeah, it get’sch me very hun’gry,” she said with a giggle. “With’out it I hardly e'fer eat.”

“You can’t smoke that in my parent’s house.”

Christine made a frown. “Why na?” she asked. 

“Because they’ll smell it," I pointed to the ceiling. "Plus, it’s a drug. It's illegal. I’ll get in trouble. You’ll get in trouble. Geez, your Mom’s upstairs.”

“My Mom hash’n’t gotta clue,” she said as started unzipping the baggie. “Don’ worreee, it doesn’t sch’mell too much.”

“Seriously, Christine.” I said. 

"It sch'mells re'ally good in fa'ct," she said opening the bag of weed up and releasing the aroma. 

"No, this isn't a good idea. I thought maybe you had some diet pill or something. I didn't expect you to Cheech and Chong on me." 

Christine was already putting a big green bud into the bowl of the pipe. "Who'sch Cheech and Chong?" she asked. 

I couldn't tell if she was serious.

“Lis’sen, wha’ss back there?” she asked as she pointed to the door behind the bar. 

“That’s the furnace room.”

“Is'h there a win’now?” 

“Um, I don’t know.”

“Less see,” she said as she got off the stool, her huge boobs, jiggling trying to get out of  her tight bra and tank top. 

"Honestly, I'm not sure --," I started to say, but it was too late. Christine had already stumbled to the door. She lost balance a bit and I reached out to steady her.

"Whoa, I'm fug'gin drun'ger than I thought," she said grabbing my hand off her shoulder. Then she turned to me with a big drunken smile and pointed her finger at my face as if to scold me. "This'ch is cuz I fig'gered out to add all tha v'odka. If I dinn't do it, I wooden be buz'zing so good. You're Mom'sch punch is weaky weak!"

I didn't know what to say. 

"Ya can tell h'er tha, too," she said as she turned her attention back to the door. "I don't care ifin she get'sch mad."

Christine accidently flung open the door and it made a crash as it hit the wall. "Oops,sch," she giggled. "Sh'orry." 

The furnace room was rather large, with boxes upon boxes of items that my parents stored. I had no idea what was in most of the boxes, but it was important to them. Sure enough, Christine found the window in the back. Christine tried hard to maintain her balance as she walked, but without any food, all that vodka and spiked fruit punch was getting her more and more wasted by the second. 

And from the looks of it, she liked it that way. 

"There'sch a win'now here, Mikey," she said as she banged her hand against it. "An' it look'sch like it goes'ch to the out'side."

"That's where most windows go," I muttered.

Christine spun around to address my sarcastic comment. "Heeey, don't make f'un of me," she said. "Lis'sen can you get this'ch open for me?"

I resigned that it was going to happen. She was going to smoke her marijuana. At least her window idea made some sense and probably wouldn't get me in trouble. I made my way through the stacks of boxes and walked over to the window to examine it. Christine stepped out of the way. 

The window wasn't one that we normally opened and for all I knew it wouldn't. It was one of those that opened inward. I started to pull on the handle but it didn't budge. "I'm not sure this has ever been open," I said as I continued to pull at it. Just then I heard a “flick”. I originally thought it was from something I did with the window, but instead, it came from behind me. 

I turned around to see Christine drunkenly lighting her pipe - right there in the middle of the furnace room!

“Whoa – wait! What are you doing? Wait until I get this open!” I said, but again it was too late. She had already taken a big hit. I ran over to her and grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the window. My sudden tug on her arm sent her boobs jiggling from under her tank top. "Over here," I said.

Christine looked at me with a furrowed brow. She then steadied herself and pointed at her mouth.

"What?" I asked.

"Mmmmm, mmmmm," she said. 

"What?" I asked again. 

"Mmmmm, mmmm," she said as she pointed again to her face. 

"Oh, yeah, okay. Just hold it in. Hang on, let me get the window. Don't blow it out!" I turned back to the window and doubled my efforts. I couldn't tell if the window was permanently sealed and I'd never get it open or if it was just stuck from non-use over the years. 

"Mmmmmm!" Christine said again in a slight panic. 

Finally I said fuck it and pulled with all my might. 

The window jolted and it opened! A blast of cold winter air came pouring in. 

I turned around toward Christine and “Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” was all I heard. The next thing I knew I was inundated with a cloud of marijuana smoke. The smell was unbelievably sweet and it quickly rolled past me as it was sucked out the window into the cold night air. 

Christine drunkenly stumbled trying to gain her balance. She was light-headed from the hit and she was going down! 

Luckily I quickly grabbed her. Just in time too, because her knees gave way. I caught her and pulled her back up to steady her. She was heavier than I initially suspected. But then, she fell forward into me, her huge breasts mashing into my chest. The force of it through me off and we ended up taking a few steps backwards. Luckily we were stopped by some boxes piled up behind us. 

I stood over her, holding her. 

She looked up at me with a silly smile. “Sh’orrry, I couldn’t h'old it in nany longer,” she said. 

"That's okay, it --," I started to say but was interrupted by a series of coughs. 

"I norm'ly dont hold it in tha long," she said as she wrapped up her coughing fit. Then, "Sh'it, my we'ed!" Her pipe was still smoking away. She placed her mouth over it and began to draw the smoke in. 

"Whoa, wait now, you have to head back over to the win-," I started to say. 

“Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” she said as she exhaled a billow of marijuana smoke all over me. 

“What the hell?” I said waving my arms away. 

"It'sch lit," she said as she once again placed her mouth on the pipe and began inhaling. 

"You're lit," I said. "Here," I got behind her and started to walk her back over to the open window. 

Christine was no use. Once again she exhaled a ton of smoke out into the room!

"Come on, blow it outside!" I yelled a bit as I pushed her toward the window. Christine was coughing and laughing at the same time! She thought it was funny! I struggled to push her forward at the same time trying desperately to wave the smoke out the window. All the movement was knocking her huge boobs around. They jiggled and wiggled and worked against me as I kept pushing her forward.   

“That was’h a bigg'ie, dude,” Christine said between giggles and coughs.

“Here,” I said as I planted her under the window. "Blow it out there." 

Christine was already putting the pipe back to her mouth and relighting it. 

I stood back and watched in disbelief. 

There she was, Christine Carole doing drugs in my parent’s furnace room. If anyone would have told me five years ago back in eighth grade I’d be watching shy, little, beanpole, braces face Christine Carole get stoned in front of me around Christmas I’d have told them they were high. 

But here she was – bigger and more beautiful than I could ever imagine, sucking in yet another intoxicating waft of marijuana smoke off her pipe. 

“See,” she said while inhaling. “The sh’cret is’h to hold it in a l’ong t'ime,” she said as I watched her eyes start to water. 

“Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” she said as she finally exhaled, this time out the window. 

She coughed a bit and wiped her eyes. “Whoa,” she said looking at the pipe. “This’h sch’tuff is goooood.”

“Good?” I said. 

Christine slowly looked over to me. Something had already changed. The drug was already taking effect. I couldn't quite place it, but it had something to do with her eyes. They seemed glassier, heavier, and distant. 

I watched as she took yet another hit. This time as she held it in, she did a little dance, waving her arms out from her side and wriggling her nice, round butt. A butt that would be magnificent on anyone, except she had a magnificent front as well. 

I couldn't believe it. Christine had really changed. I had to know when she had gotten into drugs. 

"So when did you get into smoking pot?" I asked.

Christine blew out the hit. "Juss this summer," she said as she used the lighter to adjust the pot in the bowl of the pipe. "My fr'iend Mary turn'ed me on to it."

"Mary? As in Mary Jane?" I chuckled.

"Na, Mary Pet'rsh'un," she corrected me, oblivious to my joke. "She's lik'e my bess frien," Christine said as she took another big hit. She continued to talk while holding the smoke it. "I wa'sh excepted - ak'septed - to an ad'vance'd classes this sum'mer an' I met her ther at col'lege. Mary's how I be'came a Tri Delt. She's like thi'sch big pot'head."

Christine turned to the window and blew out her huge hit. "Do you sch'moke mari'jauna Mi'ikey?" she asked.

"No," I said before I realized I was probably once again heading down the uncool road with her. 

"Ne'zer did I, 'til I met Mary," she said. "Af'ter I com'plain'd about my n'eating disorder, she told me 'bout how mari'juana could sh'timulate my app'tite. Sh'o I tried it. An' guess what?"

"What?" 

"It wor'ked," she said with a big, dimpled smile. "The s'ing is, I din't kno wa'sh how well mari'juana wood work. It's a gi'ft." She brought the pipe back up to her mouth and lit it. 

"So you say."

"I fin'ly put on weight, Mikey," she said as she inhaled. She leaned back with her arms outstretched so I could take her all in. 

She sure was bigger than I ever remembered. Except most of it seemed to have gone directly to her breasts. She must have been reading my mind because the next thing I heard was, "L'ook, I was' a b-cup juss se'ven months ago, my se'noir year of hidgh sch'ool, Mikey," she said as she sat up so I could take in her breasts once again. She brought the pipe back up to her mouth and lit it. "But once I star'ted smok'in, I put on 'nuff pound'sch to be a thisss big," she said proudly holding the intoxicating smoke in.

"What like a D cup?" I asked taking a stab in the dark. 

Christine busted out laughing and smoke went everywhere. "Thassss' a go'od one," she laughed in between coughs. "Thass why I lik' you Mikkkeee, yer fun'ny."

Christine continued to smoke. The bud looked to be nearly gone - just like she was getting. Then, she turned to me with a beautifully dazed smile. "Whooaa, I'ma cold," she said with a shiver. 

It was getting rather cold what with the window open, so I walked over and tried my best to work my way around her. Once again her huge boobs got in the way and rubbed up against my chest as I tried to slip by. "Sorry," I said. 

Christine was oblivious however. 

I shut the window and turned around. 

“The med'shunnnn is work'ingggg. I’m a'lready getting’ hungreeee,” she said with a goofy, drunken smile. 

“Great,” I said. “Let’s go eat.”

“Huh?”

“Let’s go back and eat before anyone comes looking for us.”

Christine looked back at the pipe. It was smoldering and a thin stream of smoke rose from the bowl of the pipe. 

She looked back up at me. “There’sch sh’um more leff,” she slurred. “If I’ma gonna eat all tha’ food, I’m gonna nee’d all the hel’p I can git.” And with that, she lit the bowl one more time and inhaled deeply until the bud completely burnt out. 

I reopened the window and watched as Christine looked at me with watering eyes. I got the impression she had inhaled too much. She was struggling to hold all the smoke in. She coughed a bit and some came out her nose, but she caught herself. She reached beside me and knocked the pipe on the wall to clean it out, all the while holding the smoke in. Maybe to take her mind off not breathing out. Maybe out of habit. Finally, her eyebrows raised and she gave me that wonderfully big, dimpled smile. She opened her mouth and an endless amount of smoke poured out of her and thankfully, out the window. 

She coughed a few times and then looked back over at me. Her eyes were heavy and at half-mast. 

She giggled which made her breasts jiggle. 

I didn't mind that at all. 

I stood there and watched her. I didn't say much as I watched her struggle with putting her pipe, lighter, and ziplock away. I could tell she was getting more and more stoned with each passing second because it was almost comical how she would put the pipe in one pocket and then the lighter in another, only to reach in and grab the pipe again and put that in her back pocket. On and on it went as her drunken and stoned mind tried to figure out what the hell she was doing.

Then, after a few minutes, she looked up at me realizing I was standing there just watching her. 

Christine immediately started to giggle. "What?" she asked. 

"Nothing."

CHAPTER 5: 

SH'ANTA BABY

Christine was stupid high. 

There I was watching her put her pipe, lighter, and marijuana away, only to forget which pocket she putting what into. It was hilarious. 

She had no idea what she was doing. 

Finally, she looked up at me realizing I was standing there just watching her. 

Christine immediately started to giggle. "What?" she asked. 

"Nothing."

Christine looked around to her right and then her left. "Ser'yioush'ly, what?"

"Nothing," I said again.

"You can't juss say noth'in," she said, swaying drunkenly.

"Sure I can. Nothing. See I just did it again" I said trying to hold a straight face. 

"Ha. Ha. Are you li'ke makin'g fun of me?" she asked. "I'm juss havin' a mari-moment h'ere," she said starting to giggle again.

"A mari-moment?" I repeated. I had never heard of that. 

"Yeah," she slurred. "I'ma juss havin' a lid'dle tru'ble with put'ting the sch'tuff away, tha'ss all."

"I can see that."

"It'sch cop'licated," she said. 

"Well, yeah. When you're high."

“Naaaaa,” she said waving her hand at me like I didn't know what was talking about. “It'sch 'cause I'm a lid'dle drun'g," she claimed. 

"Well, yeah, that too."

"An' hungreeee.” Christine added as she drunkenly stumbled through the path of boxes and toward the door. 

I walked over and pulled the latch to shut the window. “Yeah, but mostly because your high. I don't see drunk or hungry people having that much trouble putting their weed and pipe and whatever you call it away.”

Christine turned around with a miffed, but rather stoney look about her, and walked up to me. 

She didn't say a word. 

Instead, she drunkenly threw her arms around my neck and her boobs came crashing into me. I couldn’t tell if it was for balance, whether she wanted to tell me something, or kiss me. Standing there with her holding on to me and her huge boobs pressed against my chest, it was easy to imagine what bedding her would feel like. I lost control a bit and felt my dick start to harden for the first time that night. 

Christine stared deep into my eyes. “Lis’sen, Mickey," she slurred. "I sch’moke mari’nana for the heal’th ef’fects. It sim'ulates my hun'ger," she said as she patted her belly. "I don't git hiigh, as you c'all it."

“Seriously? Marijuana stimulates your hunger?” I looked her straight in her glassy, bloodshot eyes. 

“Yeeeaaah, it gives pe'eple the mun'chies, Mikey. Ef'er heard of them?"

"Yeah," I said honestly.

"Thass the reason I sch'moke. The mun'cheees," she said rather defiantly. She raised her hand and pointed directly at my chest. "I’m na a ston'er,” she said as she pulled away from me only to stumble backwards. 

I watched as her face went from drunk and stoney anger to utter surprise as she realized she was falling - falling straight into a big pile of boxes! Her large breasts jiggling and knocking together under her white tank top.  

Christine fell with a crash! 

Into a huge stack of my Mom's boxes! 

I watched as one of the boxes fell open on top of her and out rained an assortment of Christmas knick knacks and other holiday junk my Mom obviously forgot about. Christine sat there on the floor in the middle of all the stuff looking more confused than ever. 

She was probably having a mari-moment, as she called it. 

"Ooops'sch," she said as it dawned on her she had drunkenly fallen to the ground. 

Then she busted out laughing. 

"Are you okay?" I asked as I got down on one knee, ready to help her up. I kind of figured though that the laughter made me assume she was fine. 

"I f'ell on my assssss," she said. "Goo'd thing I got sum padd'ing!" she giggled. 

I didn't know what to say. 

Christine surveyed all the stuff that fell around her. "Heeeeeeeey," she said excitedly picking up a santa cap and placing it on her head. "Hhhow do I lo'ok?" The top of it with the white fluffy ball bounced twice on her red little nose.

I couldn't lie. She was cute. "Very cute."

"Yeeeaaaaah?" she said with a big smile.

"Yeah," I said. "It's festive."

"Do I lo'ok li'ke Sssan'ta?"

"No, you don't look like Santa."

"I don't?" she said seemingly disappointed. 

"No, you look like a girl with a Santa hat on," I added.

Christine sat there in the heap with a dumb little smile plastered across her face. "A cute girl wit' a S'anta hat on," she corrected me.  

I knelt over her and stretched my arm out to pull her up.

But she didn't take it. Instead, I watched as Christine closed her eyes and leaned back into the boxes. I could only assume the marijuana was really taking effect and was reeking havoc on her already drunken brain. 

"Here, come on. Take my hand, I'll pick you up," I said waving my hand near her face. She slowly came to, smiled a huge drunken and stoned smile and grabbed my hand. 

I started to pull her up, but she was heavier than I expected. Big breasts would do that to you I guess. Not to appear weak, I doubled my effort and Christine tumbled forward like a rag doll, crashing into me. Her huge boobs pressed against my body. I stumbled backwards from the force of impact. She recoiled and started falling backwards again, but I was quick and reached around the small of her back and steadied her. 

There we were. Standing face to face, with me holding her in my arms. 

Christine reached up and placed her hand on my cheek. And then, suddenly she pulled me toward her. 

The next thing I knew we kissed. 

Madly. 

Her tongue explored mine and I explored hers. I could taste all the marijuana and alcohol she consumed. 

And then, just like that she pushed me away. I stood there dumb-founded, staring into her half-mast eyes. I wasn't too sure what just happened, but it was terrific. 

Christine's held her head up like it was twenty pounds heavier than usual. It swayed in slight circles as she wiped her mouth. "Sh'orry, I juss wanna'd to kissss you," she said as the white fluff of the santa cap danced around her head. 

"Sure. That's okay," I said not really knowing what to say. 

Christine stumbled forward back into my arms. She slowly lifted her head and looked up at me with a big, big grin. "Thisss call'sh for a drin'g!" she said as she drunkenly pushed herself out of my arms and stumbled back out of the room toward the bar. 

"Wait, what?" I said as I watched her stumble out the door. I would have run right after her, but I had to first tug at my jeans to rearrange myself. 

What a tease!

CHAPTER 6:

HOME FOR THE HOLIDAZE

"Heeeeeey," Christine slurred. "We're outta p'unch." 

I walked into the bar to find Christine had already found her drink and downed what was left of it! 

She slumped into the chair and put on a sad, pouty face. "Mi'key, can you git me sum more punch?"

"Don't you think you had -," I started to say, but realized there would be no winning with this wild one. Instead I decided to roll with it. "Sure thing," I said. 

Christine's face lit up with joy. "Thank'sch Mik'ey!" said said as she drunkenly handed the cup over to me. 

"In the meantime, while I head upstairs and get more punch, maybe you should have something to eat?" I said.

"Tha' won' be a prob'lem," she slurred. The mere mention of food and Christine was instantly focused on her plate. It didn't matter that half of the food was cold. All that mattered was that it was in front of her. She picked up her fork and began tearing into everything. 

It was then I realized I stood corrected: it was very obvious that weed did in fact make Christine eat. 

A lot.

"Mmmmm," she said as she shoveled the feast she had piled onto her plate earlier in the evening.

I decided to head upstairs. It was only once I got off the stool and was no longer worried about Christine smoking in the basement that I realized I was a little buzzed. Not enough to raise any suspicion, but buzzed nonetheless. Certainly not as drunk as Christine - she'd raise all sorts of flags. And possibly a few other things! 

I walked up the stairs and opened the door. Sure enough, my Mom's party was still going strong. My goal was to just get up there, get some punch, and get back downstairs as fast as I could. You know, slip in and slip out. But that didn't happen.

Soon I was inundated. 

"Hey is that you Micheal?", "Little Mikey is that you?", and "Whoa -- my have you grown!" I heard all my Mom's friends say to me. No matter where I turned, there was some friend of my Mom who hadn't seen me in awhile and wanted to talk. It took a lot of smiles and nods to get over to the punch table. 

But that's when it occurred to me. 

I wasn't getting any punch. 

Not in this crowd!

I was surrounded by people. Loads of people. If anyone saw me even take a glass from the punch table, they'd be all over me! I was underage. Someone would squeal and my Mom would kill me.  It was hopeless.

Then again, did Christine really need more booze? I mean, especially after all that punch and vodka she drank? And what about the pot she smoked? She seemed pretty wasted already. I had visions of her getting really sloppy and puking all over me and the basement. That wouldn't be good. And then there was the inevitable moment in the night when she would have to leave with her Mom. I could just see her so wasted, slurring, and stumbling, that her Mom would be furious. We'd be busted and I'd get the blame. My Mom would kill me for sure. 

But then that little devil on my shoulder popped up. 

So what if she got completely wasted? If I came down empty handed she'd probably see me as lame and totally uncool. So what was it to me? I barely knew her. I mean, I knew her a long time ago in junior high, when she was a stick of a figure and a complete dork we would all ignore. But now she was bigger - much bigger! - and wild. She had come a long way. Who was I to say what she could put in her body and what she couldn't? 

And speaking of putting stuff into her body, it was pretty apparent she had quite a crush on me. That kiss! Sure it was a bit sloppy and drunken, but wow! What if this led to something? What if she wanted to do it? Maybe it was all that alcohol and pot that was lubricating her up and making her...horny...but wow, why would I want to stop that from happening? Who was I to not oblige if she wanted to do it? I had never had a girl built like her. Those boobs! Those huge, huge boobs! 

My mind raced. I couldn't stop undressing her in my mind. What would those huge boobs feel like in my hands? How much could they weigh? How soft would they be? And that ass? Oh man. That ass. The thoughts of her naked, drunk, and stoned wanting me downstairs was completely turning me on. 

I could feel my pants start to hurt from the pressure. 

Yikes! Not up here! Not in front of all my Mom's old friends!

I woke up from my thoughts and realized I was in the kitchen. 

"Hi Mikey," said one of my Mom's friends. "I haven't seen you in years! How is college?"

"Huh?" I stammered, my mind realizing one of my Mom's old friends was talking to me. It was Mrs. Dupree, one of my Mom's friends from church. 

"College, hun. How is it going? Do you like it?"

My mind snapped back to reality. "Oh, college. Yes, oh it's great Mrs. Dupree. It's a lot of fun and the classes are great too," I answered in a very politically correct manner. I could feel my boner pressing against my pants, so I carefully hung my arms down in such a way to hide the fact. 

"That's wonderful to hear. What are you majoring in?" she asked as she took a sip of wine. 

"Um, business right now. But it's still early, so you know, I might change down the road." God, I wish this boner would subside!

"Business is a good all around major, hun."

I smiled and stood there. I wasn't really sure what to say. I didn't want to be there. I wanted to be downstairs with Christine. Luckily looking at old Mrs. Dupree had the effect of killing my hard-on. Thank God. 

"Are you looking for something to drink?" she suddenly asked.

"What?"

She raised her eyebrow. "Something to drink?" she repeated. "Your Mom set out some soda here on the table. There's also orange juice and water, and...,"

"Orange juice?" I asked looking past her and at the table. I quickly realized orange juice would be the perfect mixer to the vodka downstairs! Of course! Christine would love it. Plus, it would probably be better than the punch. And, I wouldn't have to come down empty-handed. "That would be perfect," I blurted out. 

"Oh, you're that fond of orange juice?" 

"Huh?" I asked. I had totally ignored Mrs. Dupree. 

"I guess you're a real fan of it, huh hun?" she said smiling. 

It was obvious I was making a confusing impression for her. But I didn't care. I wasn't up here to mingle or make my Mom look good about how well I was doing in school or to help her make and meet clients. I was up here to get something for Christine to drink so she could get as drunk as she wanted to be. 

"I'm going to head downstairs now, Mrs. Dupree. It was nice talking to you," I said as I quickly walked around her and grabbed the entire orange juice container. 

I could just hear here as I left her standing there. "Okay, um, bye."

I was extremely proud of myself now that I had a container full of orange juice in hand. The devil on my shoulder was as well. I quickly made my way back to the basement door. The sooner I got downstairs the better. 

I grabbed the handle to the basement door and -

"There you are!" 

Shit. 

It was my Mom - with three older ladies in tow.

"That's my son Michael," she said as she quickly presented the three ladies to me. "Michael, I'd like you to meet Mrs. Anderson, Mrs. O'Neal, and Mrs. Rosini."

"Hello," they all said. 

"It's really nice to meet you! I heard so much about you," one of them said. 

"I heard you're doing well in school," another said. 

"You're mother is so proud of you," the third one said. 

I just stood there and smiled a fake little smile. I could feel my grip on the door loosening fast. 

Then my Mom leaned in and said softly, "I'm glad you came up. Come here, I want you to meet some people."

"No Mom," I started to say, but it was too late. My Mom grabbed my arm and was leading me into the living room. 

Shit. 

It was packed. 

All full of old people. 

For the next fifteen minutes my Mom dragged me around introducing me like some show pony to each and every person in the house. I stood there with a fake smile, shaking hands, and answering the same stupid questions over and over again. 

"How's college?"

"What do you like about it?"

"Are you meeting people?"

"What's your major?"

"Are you sad you're not at home?"

Being the good son that I was, I let my Mom parade me in front of her guests. 

Strangely enough no one asked me why I was carrying a full container of orange juice. It just didn't matter to these people. Only the superficial questions did. 

"Do you have a girlfriend?" one last person asked. 

"What?" I replied half in a daze from the endless hand shaking. 

"A girlfriend?" she asked again. 

"Uh, no," I said. And yet what I wanted to answer was. "Um, no, but if you all would let me fucking leave, I could get my ass downstairs and maybe, just maybe hit it off with this gorgeous girl named Christine!"

"Oh, she's downstairs is she?"

"Yeah, she's drunk and stoned at the Moment and probably done eating and waiting for me to come down there and make out with her."

"I'm sorry did you say she was stoned?"

"Yeah, she smokes marijuana because she has an eating disorder."

"An eating disorder? That's a weird reason to smoke marijuana. I would think that's just what she's saying to justify getting high."

"That's exactly what I said to her, lady. She said no. She smokes it just to get an appetite up."

"Huh. Well, I did read that marijuana can give you the munchies."

"Yeah. That's her point. Now if you excuse me, I'd like to get down there and see if I can't get it on with her."

And we're back.

"No?" the lady replied. "Oh, well, I'm sure there's plenty of nice girls there on campus. You'll meet one in due time, I'm sure," the lady said.  

"Yeah," I said stupidly. God get me out of here!

I turned to my Mom. "Can I go back downstairs now?" I begged. 

My Mom turned to me and gave me a kiss. "Sure thing," she said out loud. And then, quieter, just to me, "Thank you."

"Your welcome," I said as she gave me a hug. 

I quickly headed back to the basement door, turned the handle and headed downstairs. I had easily lost twenty or twenty-five minutes upstairs. I could only hope Christine wasn't pissed at me.

CHAPTER 7: 

SILENT NIGHT, HOLY SHIT!

I walked down the stairs and turned the corner expecting to see Christine a bit miffed as to how long it took. But when I looked over at the bar where I left her, she wasn't there. 

Not surprisingly, all the food was devoured. Her "medicine" did the trick and she managed to clean her plate and then some. Maybe she wouldn't really notice how long I was gone. 

"Christine?" I called out. 

I set the orange juice on the bar. 

"Christine?" I asked again. 

That's when I noticed the vodka bottle was gone. That's weird. 

And that's when it hit me. 

That smell. 

Marijuana!

Shit! 

She was totally going to get us in trouble! If anyone came down, we'd be busted!

Shit! Shit! Shit!

I quickly ran back to the furnace room, the smell getting stronger with each step.  

Sure enough, there she was - pipe in hand, taking a monster hit! 

Smoke was everywhere!

"Christine!" I yelled under my breath. "What the hell are you doing?"

Christine was sitting on top of a big box, legs hanging, feet a few inches above the ground with a big smile on her face. And she was still wearing that stupid santa cap!

"Heeeeeeeeyyyyyyyyy," she said as smoked poured from her mouth. "Th'ere ya are!" She patted her hand on the box beside her. "C'm an' half a s'eat nex' ta me," she cooed before she busted out in a fit of coughing. 

I started waving my arms to try and dissipate the smoke. "You didn't open the window!"

Christine smiled a goofy grin at me. 

"Why didn't you open the window?" I said in a panic.

Christine reached up and itched her huge left boob with the end of her pipe and then with her other hand drunkenly wiped her nose. 

"Did you hear me?" I asked as I finally walked up to where she was sitting.

All she did was giggle and make faces at me. 

"Come on Christine," I said rather miffed. 

"I coul'nt o'pen it up," she slurred. "It wa'sh tooooo h'ard."

I walked over to the window and pulled it open. 

"Dammit Christine. It opened easy enough for me," I said as I turned back to her only to get a huge waff of smoke washing over me. 

I tried my best to wave the smoke out the window. 

"What are you doing?"

Christine swayed drunkenly with her pipe, smiling a big, beautiful smile. Her dimpled cheeks were flushed from the alcohol. "Im sch'mokin' pot, Mi'key. See?" she said as she took another hit off her pipe. 

"But you're done eating. I saw your plate. You ate everything."

Christine looked at me with her half-lidded eyes. "So?" she said as smoke snuck out her mouth.

"So?" I said. "So? Why do you need more? I thought you said you didn't smoke to get high? It was just for your eating disorder."

Christine looked at her smoldering pipe. Then back at me. She was still holding the smoke inside her lungs. A huge smile slowly crept over her face. "I liiiieeeeeed," she said as she exhaled the potent smoke.

"You lied?"

"Yup."

"About your eating disorder?"

Christine gave me a funny look. "Na. Na a'bout my n'eating nis'order. I hav a prob'lem, Mi'key, wit tha't. I lied 'bout how I din't sch'moke to get hiiiighhhhhh," she said almost leaning too far forward, flashing her huge cleavage at me for a moment as she slowly steadied herself. 

"I knew it," I said to myself as I tried desperately to wave the smoke out the window. 

"Get'tin' hiighhh is fun, Mi'key," I heard her say but I could care less. I was too focused on figuring out how the hell I was going to get the smoke and smell out of the room. There was too much in the air and it was worrying me. "It fe'el'sch soooo good. Hav' you ef'er got'ten hiiighhh, Mi'key?"

I missed her question. 

She repeated. 

"Mi'key, hav' you ef'er go'tten hiigh?" she asked again. 

I didn't want to answer. The answer was no. No I never got high. The minute I'd say that she'd once again see me as "not cool." 

"I'm hiiigh now," I heard her say to herself. 

I turned and looked at her. She was a wreck. But such a beautiful one. She was still leaning forward. My eyes once again betrayed me and soaked up her ample cleavage. 

"Sh'eriously," she slurred. "If you've ne'fer got'ten hiiiigh, then that'sch a problem," she said as she sat straight up again to take another hit.

"Not taking drugs is a problem? Is that what I heard you say?"

Christine stopped and held the pipe in front of her face. "Mar'iju'ana'sch na a drug, Mik'ey," she said. "It'sch a nat'ural med'icine." She lowered the pipe. "It get'sch you sh'o re'laxed and m'ellow," she smiled. I could tell she was beyond relaxed and mellow already. 

"That's great," I said sarcastically trying to push more smoke out the open window.  

We sat there in silence for a good while. Me, trying to clear the air from all Christine's smoke. Her, just sitting there with a smoldering pipe in hand. 

And then, after a while, I heard her call out my name. 

"Mi'key," she said in a more serious tone. 

I turned around toward her. 

"Do you f'ind me dis'trac'tive?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "Distractive?"

She closed her eyes, tried hard to concentrate, and re-said what she was trying to say. "I m'ean, do you f'ind me a'track'tive?"

I was caught a bit off guard. Of course I found her attractive. I thought she was hot. And those boobs. Those monster boobs. God, I had never met anyone so stacked as her before. "Yeah," I said in a way I thought wouldn't give how I felt completely away. You know, I had to be cool.

"Re'ally?" she beamed.

"Yeah, sure," I said. 

"How?" she asked all bright and cheery. Well, as bright and cheery as anyone could be as drunk and high as she was. 

"What do you mean how?"

"Li'ke in wh'at way m I a'tractive?" she asked leaning forward again, her boobs taunting me to tell her that they were the reason I found her so incredibly attractive. 

"I think you're cute," I said. I opted to go the safe route. 

"Cute?" she asked, her eyes heavy from all the pot. It was obvious to me the marijuana was baking her brain.

"Well, not cute, but -."

"Na cute?" she said with a frown.

"No, no. Hang on. Let me talk here. Yes, cute. But I mean, hot too. Actually I mean hot," I stammered. It was no use. "Yeah, I think you're hot."

Christine's face went from frown to smile.  "I li'ke you Mik'ey," she said as she put the pipe back up to her lips and flicked her lighter. "I al'way'sch have," she said right before she inhaled the intoxicating smoke. Once she had filled her lungs, she backed off and squinted her eyes. She spoke without losing any smoke, "I've had a cr'usch on you s'ince for'efer."

Wow. I couldn't believe she had said that. "You had a crush on me?" I asked. I had no idea. Then again, I could care less who Christine Carole was back in junior high. She was such a homely dork. 

"Yeeaaaahhh," she said, still holding the smoke deep in her lungs. "At fir'sss I juss wanna'd to come tonight to sh'ow you hhhow much I ch'anged. To ma'ke you eat your hhhheart out." She was struggling with talking and holding the smoke down, but she continued. "But thennnn, when I saw you, an how c'ute you were, all th'ossse fe'elingsch came baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack," and it was on the word "back" she lost it and the smoke came pouring out and all over the furnace room. 

I quickly tried waving the smoke out toward the open window. 

"Sounds like you're saying we've once again reverted to junior high again, huh?" I said with a smile, giving up on waving the smoke out. Who the hell cared about the smoke or the smell? Here was one of the most gorgeous girls I had seen in a long time and she was confessing how she had a crush on me back at Parker junior high. How cool was that? My ego instantly inflated. 

Christine slowly closed her eyes and tilted her head backwards. "Ooooooh," she said. Then, rather suddenly, she brought her head forward and re-opened her eyes halfway. "Daamn," she said. "I s'ink I m'ay hav smok'ed too much," she laughed as she looked down at the pipe. "I luv it wh'en I do th'at."

My body once again started going into overdrive - just like when I laid eyes on her the first time up in the hallway. Here I was with the most awesome girl I'd ever seen and she not only declared she liked me - and always has -  but she was getting herself so wasted as well! My mind started racing. 

Could we have sex here? 

In the basement? 

Did I have a condom? 

I knew I needed to seal the deal! I needed something cool to say. 

Wasted or not, I couldn't lose this moment...

CHAPTER 8: 

ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS...CHRISTINE

My mind raced. 

A very drunk and stoned Christine was sitting in my parents basement and she just admitted she had a big crush on me. Now, if she had told me she had a crush on me back in junior high when she was a thin, homely little girl with braces, I would have run away! But, here she was, all boobs, butt, and beautiful, sitting with a santa cap, and smiling a big, dimpled stony smile. 

I wanted her badly! 

I cleared my throat and said the first thing that came to my mind, "Christine, if it means anything to you, the moment I saw you upstairs and realized who you were, I had the same feelings."

Christine looked back at me with a big grin. "You diiiid?" she asked.

"I did," I said. It was true. Well, kind of true. I definitely had feelings for this more mature, more developed version of Christine. I just didn't have much recollection of the junior high version of Christine. 

Christine sat there on the box, drunkenly swaying, with a big drugged-induced smile plastered on her face. It was clear to me she was in la-la land.And then, abruptly, she frowned.  "Waaaitt, I k'now y'er full of sh'it, Mi'keeey," she said. 

Shit. Even in her drugged up state, she could see through my little white lie. 

Christine stared at me, her eyes bloodshot and half-mast. And then, just as abruptly, her smiled returned, even bigger than before. "But I dont c'are," she said and then started laughing.

I smiled back at her.  

"C'm an' Mi'key. Half a hit wiff me," she said as she held out the smoldering pipe of marijuana. 

"No thanks," I said without thinking.  

Sure enough, she was all over me. "C'mon," she said. "Don't b'e sh'uch lame-o, Mi'key! I th'ought you we're co'ol. C'm an' get h'iiigh wiff me," she said as her stoned and heavy arms once again placed the pipe back into her mouth and lit it. 

I didn't know all that much about marijuana. But I did know she had had a lot to drink and this seemed like a lot of weed to be ingesting. I didn't want her puking or passing out down here when there were so many of my Mom's friends upstairs at the party. I couldn't imagine how I would explain it to my Mom if something would happen. 

I walked up and stood in front of her. I grabbed her shoulders in an effort to both steady her and get her to look me in the eyes. It worked. For a few seconds her head stopped swaying and her half-mast, bloodshot eyes stared into mine. 

"Christine," I started to say.

But that's all I got out. The next thing I knew her lips were attached to mine. I could feel my mouth open and her tongue exploring. Our tongues interlocked until I felt the strangest warm sensation in my mouth. All I heard was a gutteral "ahhhhhh" and then next thing I knew I pushed off from her and was coughing my lungs out!

Christine began coughing as well. 

"What the hell?" I asked in between coughs. I was pissed. My mouth tasted of marijuana smoke. I didn't like it!

But the next thing I knew Christine was standing, swaying in front of me. She clumsily grabbed both my cheeks in her hands and pulled me down into her. Our lips once again locked and her tongue opened my mouth. I felt another blast of warm air fill my mouth, but this time I didn't jump. Our tongues continued to explore each other and I began to calm down, lost in the kiss. 

After a minute or so, she pulled away. 

I opened my eyes to see her standing there, swaying. She had that beautiful big, dimpled grin on her face. 

"What?" I asked. 

"You n'ee to re'lacks, du'de" she said, her cheeks flush from all the booze. "C'm here," she said as she put the pipe back up to her mouth and lit it. 

I wasn't sure what she was doing. 

Then as soon as she inhaled another huge hit, she looked back up at me with slitted, bloodshot eyes, reached around my neck and pulled me towards her. I could feel her massive boobs crush up against my chest. O swear her nipples were hard, but then all thoughts were lost because she again forced herself on me, her tongue making its way into my mouth. 

I once again felt a rush of warm, smoky air in my mouth. It was only natural to breathe and I found myself inhaling her. 

Now I got what she was doing. 

I could feel her pull me closer, her big breasts flattening further and further against my chest as she passionately kissed and poured smoke into me. 

After awhile she pulled back and released. She stood there swaying, looking at me with a dumb smile as if proud of herself. 

I felt much more relaxed. 

"I l'ike you Mi'key," she said "An' I wan' ta git you hiiigh."

I stood there taking her all in. She was a bit disheveled, but cute as hell. Still, it was hard to take her seriously with the santa hat. 

"You n'ee'd it," she said as she put the pipe one more time up to her mouth. 

"Wait," I said. 

She paused and looked up at me with half-mast eyes. 

"I've never smoked marijuana."

Her hands drunkenly dropped to her sides. "Thass no't tr'ue, sil'ly!" she giggled. "You've jusss b'een sch'mokin' now. Wi'ff me," she beamed, her eyes heavy and red.

And with that she placed the pipe back up to her mouth, lit it, and took another huge hit. I watched as her chest expanded, making her boobs look all the more bigger than they could possibly be! 

"I...," I stammered, a bit worried about getting high what with my Mom and the party going on upstairs. But it was too late. I could feel the warm smoke pouring into my mouth and lungs. I was sharing her in such a weird and wonderful way. I realized right then and there I wasn't in charge. Fuck it, I said to myself. Go with the flow. Christine definitely knew what she was doing. 

"H'ere," I heard her say. She was standing in front of me once again. How long were we making out? I didn't know. 

Christine was handing me the bottle of vodka. "Dr'ink," she slurred. 

"What?" I said taking the bottle from her. What about more making out?

"You ne'ed to re'lax and loo'sen up. Half sum f'un," she slurred as she stumbled over to one of the boxes and sprayed something into the air. 

I did what she ordered and took a swig from the vodka bottle. It burned on the way down, but there was something sexy about it all. 

"Tha'ss g'ood," she said. "Dr'ink moooore," she advised as she stumbled and staggered around the room, spraying more of whatever she was spraying all over the room. "Thi'sh is wha' we sor'ity girl'sh do. We ma'ke sh'ure ev'ryone par'tees an' ha's a goooo'd time," she continued. 

Party. Have a good time. Yeah, that made sense. She totally was into a good time. She was built for it.

I looked back at the bottle and took another big swig. It was easier than the first time. 

Soon the whole furnace room started to smell like evergreens.

Winter.

Christmas. 

Wow. Everything with the marijuana was going to be all right, I thought.

"Mo're," she ordered again. 

I obeyed. 

"The're," she slurred as she stopped spraying the air feshener. "Cm'on" she said as she grabbed my hand. I followed her as she drunkenly led us toward the door back toward the bar. 

I couldn't help but undress her with my eyes. My mind was so focused on her body. As she staggered and led us toward the door, I began to get hypnotized by her wonderfully full and drunken ass. It was poured into her jeans. I could tell it so wanted to come out. To be free. To dance and jiggle drunkenly in front of me. To be touched.

We continued walking, past the bar. She drunkenly turned around to look at me. She had a devilish look in her stoned and bloodshot eyes and a huge smile across her face. Her santa hat bopping and bouncing along. 

She continued to pull at my hand as she clumsily walked backwards, leading us toward the couch. But all I could do was stare at her chest. Her huge boobs bounced in unison under her white shirt. Beckoning me. Longing to be fondled and caressed. It was so obvious that they wanted me to suck on them. They teased me with each bounce. 

And then I fell on top of her. 

We exploded in giggles. 

Lots of giggles!

There we were sitting on the couch, both of us in each others arms. Her, drunk and stoned out of her mind. Me, definitely feeling wonderfully weird and floaty.

With the biggest boner I had ever had in my life. 

CHAPTER 9: 

HAVE YOURSELF A MERRY LITTLE CHRISTINE

The next thing I knew she was straddling me, sitting on my lap. 

We were making out more passionately than ever before. My lips felt huge. So did hers. Our tongues continued to explore every inch of the other's mouth. They danced as my hands made there way up and down her back. Slowly they reached down toward her huge and shapely ass. It felt so big and so firm in my hands. 

Christine pulled away with a drunken smile. She reached down, grabbed the vodka bottle I had carried over, and began chugging it. I was feeling so strange. It was like with each chug I could feel her ass getting bigger and bigger. Like all the booze was filling her up and expanding her. 

The next thing I knew she was pouring vodka into me. Some of it spilled out of my mouth and down my neck, but the rest I swallowed like it was water. It tasted so good. As I wallowed in the flavor, I could feel Christine licking and sucking my neck, injecting the vodka that had spilled all over me. 

"H'ow you fe'el?" I could hear her say, her voice seemingly in my head. 

"Ohhhh," I said as she continued to kiss my neck. 

I was lost in the moment. I thought I heard a familiar click and the next thing I knew I was looking up at Christine taking another huge hit from her pipe. God she was such a partier. She was getting so high. 

I sat there feeling rather heavy and sedated as she smoked pot on my lap. It occurred to me that she was so vulnerable in this position. I couldn't help myself. I felt my arms raise up and creep under her white shirt. 

They kept exploring under the shirt. And then it happened. 

I grabbed them! My hands cupped her huge breasts and began to squeeze. I could feel her bra. It must have been huge to fit around such enormous melons as hers, but there was still a big gap between the bra and the start of each boob. It didn't take long for my hands to work there way between the bra and her breasts. Soon I was underneath her bra, pushing it out and away as I kneaded the juiciest of titflesh I had ever felt. 

I was so lost in feeling her up that I barely noticed the smoke once again pouring into my mouth. 

Tongues. Breasts. Smoke. 

I was getting high and making out with the most gorgeous drunk and stoned girl on the planet. 

I was in heaven. 

Pop!

Spill!

I had managed to dislodge her bra from the front and in doing so I could feel both of her huge mounds fall solidly into my hands. They were so heavy. So full. My hands were now her bra. I had to keep such care. They had such a big duty to perform. I caressed and kneaded each fat, heavy breast as we continued to make out. 

"Ohhhhhh," I heard her say as I continued to knead and fondle her under her shirt. I noticed she began rubbing her lower torso back and forth slowly over my pants and massive hard-on. 

I could feel her hands behind my head as we passionately kissed. She was pulling me closer into her mouth. 

Then I felt her lift off my hands as she pulled away. 

I opened my eyes. She was blitzed out of her mind. Her hair fell in front of her face and her eyes were glassy and distant. It didn't help that her santa hat was crooked and cock-eyed. 

She smiled such a huge smile. "I'm sh'ooo w'as'ted," she said as she leaned back and looked up to the ceiling. 

I could feel her falling backwards. I looked up and from my vantage point her head disappeared, replaced only by the underside of her huge breasts jutting out from her shirt. She was falling backwards! 

I quickly reached up to steady her, but she was too wasted to control. She drunkenly fell foward. The next thing I knew her huge boobs crashed into my face! I felt her two huge pillows of breast flesh wrap around my head. 

If only she wasn't wearing that shirt!

I pushed her back a bit. She wavered and wobbled. Her flushed face was just centimeters from mine. "Ar' you h'iiigh?" she asked, her breath a combination of alcohol and marijuana smoke. 

I gazed up at her face. My eyes felt heavy. My body felt heavy. And that's when I noticed it. The strange, floaty feeling all across my body. 

"Whoa," I said as my eyes crossed a bit. 

Christine seemed to instantly recognize it. She smiled even bigger and sat back up. "Yeah, you'r hiiigh," she said with a self-congratulatory tone. 

I sat there and looked up at her. My sense of focus was acute. Things were tunneling. Everywhere I looked was so clear, but everywhere I didn't was just a haze. 

"Don't ya juss luv it?" she cooed, her words dripping with stoney pleasure.

I felt wonderful.

I watched as her huge head backed away from mine. She sat back up on me and managed to steady herself.  

I couldn't believe how lucky I was. 

And how high.

"On'e more for g'ood me'asure," she said as she placed the pipe into my mouth for the first time. I was feeling so good I just let her do her thing. I watched as her huge hands came in with her huge lighter and sparked the huge bud in the bowl of the pipe. 

"Sh'uck it in," I heard her say as I watched the huge bowl glow orange. The more I sucked, the brighter the orange light got.

It was then I noticed the feeling in my throat and lungs. "Yeeeah," I heard her say from afar. "H'ol'd it in, Mi'key. It'sch gon'na git you hiiiiighh."

Hiiiigggggghhhhhhhhh.

The next thing I knew I began coughing. But as soon as that happened, Christine swooped in and began kissing me again. This time it was me who was passing the smoke to her. I exhaled into her and blew out all the smoke. She backed off and I watched as she held it for awhile longer, lifted her head upwards, and exhaled toward the ceiling. It was an amazing thing to watch. She was so in control of the smoke. 

I instantly felt even more of what I was already feeling. A wave of drugged pleasure rolled over me. I felt heavy and could feel my lips lifting upwards in a smile. My arms and legs felt so heavy and yet, I felt like I was flying. 

I watched in stoned awe as Christine once again lifted the pipe to her mouth, took a huge hit, and cashed it out. She then dropped the pipe and lighter to the floor, reached toward the bottom of her shirt, and pulled it over her head. 

I laid there stoned, staring up at her in total awe. 

Her huge boobs bounced and jiggled as she threw the shirt behind her. There they were in their magnificent glory! They drunkenly swayed in front of me, bigger and juicier than ever! Like huge eyes, they stared down at me. I could tell they were drunk and stoned as well. Her large nipples rock hard in a sea of areola. I saw myself reach up and grab each one in my heavy hands. They were dwarfed in comparison. 

And then I watched as Christine bent toward me, getting bigger and bigger until she kissed me, and again exhaled into my mouth with an "aaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh". 

I inhaled the sweet smoke, knowing it would only get me higher, but I couldn't resist the making out. 

There we were two drunk and stoned bodies, kissing and caressing one another, while the marijuana smoke shared a dance between us.  

It didn't matter that the smoke was pouring out all over the basement. It didn't matter if a single person came downstairs and saw what we were doing. All that mattered was Christine and I were stoned and we were horny as hell. 

We continued to fondle and make out with one another. "Oooohhhhhh Mik'ey," she cooed. "I'm sh'o h'ot," she said as she continued to devour my mouth, the little white ball of fuzz from her santa hat bouncing on my forehead. 

She began to rub her lower torso faster and faster. "I wan' na fu'g," she slurred.

Oh yeah. I wanted to fuck her too. I felt myself getting more and more stoned. It was amazing. Is this what Christine feels like all the time? If so I could see why. She was such a wild girl. Such a wild, horny, and sexy girl.

Her rubbing was hitting my sweet spot. My cock was in my pants, hard, but aligned perfectly with her clit. I couldn't imagine we could keep our pants on too much longer. Did I have a condom? Did I need a condom? Did it matter? I was so horny. 

As we rode inevitably toward a crescendo, Christine surprisingly pulled back and stopped. 

I sat there with her on top of me, breathing heavily. 

She drunkenly reached down and unbuttoned my pants. Stumbling up and backwards, she stood to her feet and pulled my pants down below my knees. My hard cock was bulging in my underwear.

I looked up and saw Christine stagger a bit, her huge boobs drunkenly bouncing off one another making a loud slapping sound. She was so drunk and stoned. She wiped her mouth clumsily with one arm and stared down at my underwear. "Woooow," she smiled stupidly. 

She then nearly fell on top of me, reaching beside me for some reason. Her left boob clobbering me in the head. She returned into my view with the huge bottle of vodka that must have been sitting next to me on the couch. She turned and stumbled to the bar, boobs bouncing away, and reached into her purse. 

I would have done something, but I felt too heavy to move. I could only watch. 

Then she turned around with a big smile, took one more chug of vodka. She was so wasted some of it came pouring down her neck and coated her huge tits. She drunkenly wiped her mouth and clumsily set the bottle back on the bar. She then staggered back over to me on the couch and held up a square little package in her hand. "I cum pre'par'ed," she giggled. And with that she put the square package in her mouth, unbuttoned her pants, and stripped off her panties, nearly falling in the process - her huge boobs not helping one bit as their size threw her off balance.

She was completely naked. 

Standing in front of me. 

My mouth dropped open at such a fantastic, overdeveloped body. 

I couldn't believe this was the thin, meek, frail, and awkward girl with the thick glasses and braces I barely remembered from junior high. The one who sat in the back of class and blended in with the wall. The one who used her extremely long hair to shield herself from the world. The one who was always forgotten for class projects and picked last for teams. 

The one who was voted most likely to fade away.

That was NOT the Christine Carole I could barely remember in grade school. 

This was a woman. 

A beautiful, shapely, big-titted, lovely woman.

Drunk and stoned out of her mind. 

I wanted EVERYTHING to do with her.

And I wanted her now. 

CHAPTER 10: 

I CAME UPON A MIDNIGHT CLEAR

Christine stood majestically naked in front of me, swaying drunkenly as drunk could be. Her eyes were half-mast and bloodshot. Her face flush. And her boobs, fantastically huge and firm as they sat hanging just above her belly button. They way they slowly swayed made them seem as stoned and wasted as she was.

Yep, Christine was baked out of her mind and she wanted to fuck. 

Me. 

In my parents basement. 

How cool was that?

But at any moment the door upstairs could open and down could come any guest at the party. Worse, it might not be a guest -  but my own Mom! Or Mrs. Carole!

But none of that mattered to me. 

Christine had gotten me high and I was hornier than I ever had been in my life. 

As I lay there looking at her from the couch, Christine stumbled forward, her huge breasts knocking about. She had a look of stoned determination. "Loo'kie, look'ie," she slurred in an excited, but raspy and stoned voice. I watched as she clumsily reached down and grabbed the top of my briefs. She slowly pulled them up and over my erect cock. As she pulled it down, my cock rose to attention, throbbing as if waving to her. Beckoning her to suck it. 

Christine drunkenly giggled with delight. She looked over at me with stoned eyes, pulled the condom from her mouth and smiled. "Ohhhh Mi'key," she said with an an excited, raspy, and drunken giggle. "You've gr'ooowwnnn!"

And with that I watched as she reached down and grabbed my penis with her right hand. She looked at me with half-lidded, bloodshot eyes, "Oooh, I wan' thi'sh big c'ock."

That was the first time I had ever heard a girl say that about my penis and it instantly made me stiffen even harder!

"Oooh wow," she said as she felt my cock expand in her hand. She looked back over at me with joy and drunkenly fell backward a bit, letting go of my cock and causing it to bounce and point around the room! Luckily I reacted and grabbed her arms to steady her. She collapsed on her knees in front of me with a smile as she drunkenly stared at my bouncing cock. She was hypnotized by it.

Or stoned. 

She clumsily reached out and again wrapped her hand around my penis to steady it. Then I watched as she bent forward and inserted it into her mouth. I could feel her huge breasts knocking up against my knees with each deep throat she performed. 

Instantly her sucking sent ripples of pure pleasure across my body. I was definitely high and there was something about that feeling that seemed to magnify what I was experiencing. It was like I could feel everything better. It was all more intense. Each suck sent waves of pure bliss from my penis throughout my body. 

She was amazing. 

She continued to suck me for a few minutes. The pleasure was so intense, I could feel myself already starting to release some cum already. She was giving me the best blow job of my life. It was so obvious she knew what she was doing. I closed my eyes and let the feeling build and take over. 

The next thing I knew I felt two huge, warm and heavy things land on my upper thighs. I opened my eyes and saw she had moved forward and had placed my cock between her huge breasts. With her right and left hands she kneaded and massaged her huge boobs in such a way as to rub me into a frenzy. 

"Ooohh," I moaned. I didn't know how loud, but I didn't care. If someone came downstairs now, I could careless. I would likely explode in cum and panic, but until that time, all that mattered was her giving me a titty fuck. 

"Oh Mi'key," I heard her say. "I wanna'd you for sh'ooo l'ong."

"Oooohh," was all I could respond as the pleasure was building and building. 

"Do y'ou wanna fug me?" she asked. 

"Ohhhh." What was she saying? It was so hard to concentrate with her rubbing her huge tits around my dick. 

"Huh?" she asked in such a sexy and stoned voice. "D'o you wanna fu'g me?"

"Ohhh, yes," I heard myself say as she kept up the pace. 

"Do you wan' me?" she asked. 

"Yeeeeaaaaahhhhhh," I heard myself say again as I fought the urge to cum. "Ohhh, Chr'istine, I wan'na fuck you."

A huge, drunken smile crept across Christine's face. 

That's what she wanted to hear. 

She instantly stopped what she was doing and sat backwards on the ground. 

I looked up a bit surprised as my dick throbbed with each heartbeat, cum dripping out and along the sides. 

I heard a tearing sound and the next thing I knew she was grabbing my cock and rolling a condom over it. 

"I li'ke you Mi'key," she said as she clumsily unrolled the condom. 

"I li'ke you too," I said as I slowly tried to sit up a bit on the couch. It was so hard to muster the energy. The stoney feeling fought my efforts. 

Christine smiled at me. She was a cheshire cat - her stoned and bloodshot eyes nearly couldn't be seen from the weight of the wastedness she put herself into. 

"You know," I said as I fought the high feeling. "Maybe we should do this somewhere else." I could feel the blood starting to return to my brain from all her sucking and tit fucking. Despite the pot and booze, I started to get worried about getting caught naked downstairs. Especially with my Mom's party upstairs in full swing. 

"Ssshhhhhhhhhhhhhh," she said.

"But the pe'eple," I said as I tried to point up to the ceiling. You could hear the footsteps and the drone of conversation from the Christmas party upstairs. "Your M'om an' m'ine," I managed to say.  

"Re'lacks," she said as she slowly sat up, purposely dragging her huge boobs over my knees and across my thighs. She paused and let her big breasts hang and sway over my cock. Then, she looked back up at me with a drunken and stoned look, "Don't ya wanna be wi'th me?" she asked like a little girl. 

"Yeah, yeah, I do," I said as I felt myself reach out and pull her closer to me. 

Christine stumbled and swayed as she made her way back on top of me, her boobs bouncing all over the place. 

She slowly maneuvered herself over my erect cock and lowered herself on it. She was so wet. My penis instantly embraced her vagina as she sank onto me. 

"Ooooohhh," she said as the full length of my cock slipped into her. 

She was warm. 

So very warm. 

"Ooooh," she cooed again. Then with a devilish look, she looked down at me with her stoned eyes and said, "Ohhh God, I luv be'ing sh'o d'rung and hiiggggggggh."

And with that she raised herself up on my cock. 

"Oooooohhhh, sh'o good," she moaned as she lowered herself again on me. 

"Sh'ooo sch'toned," she said as she raised herself up again. 

"Ooooh, sh'o big," she moaned as she lowered herself on me again. 

Up and down and back and forth we repeated as we worked ourselves up. Waves of pleasure were shooting all over my body. It started slow, but soon we built into a drunken rhythm as the pleasure mounted. Her huge boobs seemed to slap and bounce in slow motion in front of my face as she rode me. Periodically one of them would knock me in the head. Which was awesome. 

It felt so good. 

She felt so good. 

We felt so good. 

And we were only beginning.

CHAPTER 11:

DO YOU HEAR WHAT I HEAR?

Christine was riding me like no other girl had.

Her huge jugs were bouncing, slapping, and jingling all over. 

She was by far the biggest and best Christmas gift ever. An overinflated, partying, sorority boy toy. 

And it didn't hurt that she got me rather high as well. 

Christine was riding my cock feverishly, sending waves of euphoria all across my stoned body. My cock remained rock hard as it sank in and out of Christine's big and beautiful booty. 

"Ooooh God," she started moaning. "Ooooh God." 

As high as she got me, there was still a part of me that knew it might not be such a great idea if Christine started moaning too loudly. And yet, that was exactly what she was doing. 

"Ooooh Mi'key," she said as she continued to fuck me. "You l'ike me? Huh? Ooooooh," she kept repeating as we worked each other up toward an orgasm. 

"Yeeeah," I answered her as wave after intense wave poured over me. 

"You l'ike me, huh? Oooooh yeeaaaaah. I kn'ew you d'id," she kept repearing louder and louder. 

I opened my eyes. She was riding me hard and fast. Her huge boobs were doing circles on her chest as she sped up the rhythm. I could feel her pussy clamp and hold, clamp and hold. She was getting herself off and from the sound of it, she was loving it. 

"Oooooh, Mi'key. Ohhhh G'od," she kept repeating in a slurred way. 

I was fast approaching the point of no return. My cock was on fire with pleasure. It was clear to me that she had done this many times before and knew how to both pleasure herself and whoever she was doing as well. 

I could feel myself lifting off. I couldn't take the intensity of the pleasure any longer. 

And then it happened. 

That moment where everything pauses briefly and kicks into overdrive. I went past the point of no return. 

I felt my cock lock in position as the orgasm ignited. 

Christine's clit triggered and she called out with an "OOOOOOOOhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" until...

...in that instant, that wonderful instant when we began orgasming, we heard a voice from up the stairs call out, "Hey, are you two okay down there? Mrs. Carole wants to leave in about fifteen minutes."

My eyes opened in panic as did Christine's. As my Mom was saying those words our drug-enhanced orgasm poured over our bodies, sending them into one monumentally pleasurable spasm after another. We looked at each other, but there was nothing we could do. We were orgasming. I did everything I could to not make a sound and as I looked up at Christine, she too was feverishly biting her lip to hold back screaming in ecstasy. 

And yet, we continued to pound into one another, flesh, cock, pussy, and boobs slapping and clapping into one another. 

Mom be damned.

"You down there, Michael?"

Each wave of euphoria poured over me sending me higher and higher, and yet I knew I had to say something or else she'd come down and see her son banging Mrs. Carole's daughter!

As I lay there helpless, shooting cum into Christine, I finally managed to call out, "Yeeeessss!"

"Oh, okay," I heard my Mom say from upstairs.

But then, to make matters worse, as I gazed up at Christine, cumming like no other, I saw her lose consciousness. Suddenly, she stopped riding me. The next thing I knew her head collapsed as she passed out right on top of me! 

I quickly reached up and grabbed her shoulders, but it was too late. She came tumbling down, boobs, santa hat and all. 

"Well, come up in about fifteen minutes then. Hope you're not boring Christine!" I heard her laugh as she shut the door. 

Christine had me pinned. She was pretty heavy. Not fat, but solid. Her gigantic boobs alone had to have weighed thirty or forty pounds. "Christine - hey," I said into her ear. "Christine? You okay?"

Just then she shook her head and I heard her take a big breath. She looked at me with heavy, half-lidded eyes. "Woooooow," she said softly awakening from the intensity of the orgasm. "Tha' ne'fer h'appen'd be'fore."

"What exactly happened?" I asked as I ran my heavy hands through her hair. 

"I dunno," she said as she nuzzled her head into my neck, the top of the santa hat falling on my cheek. "B'ut I l'ike'd it."

"I mean, did you, you know? Was it good - ?" I asked. 

Christine picked her hand up and placed it on my chest. She slowly picked up her heavy head and tried to look me straight in the eyes. They were half-mast, glassy, and bloodshot, and she struggled a bit to focus. Then with a wide grin she said, "Fu'g yeeeeeeaaaaaaaah.Tha' wa'sh li'ke the bess e'fer."

A wave of pride fell over me. I had made a girl cum so hard she passed out. Granted it was probably all the drugs that had made it so intense, but for that moment, that one little moment as she lay wasted and naked in my arms, I took total responsibility for rocking her world. 

I was a super star.

CHAPTER 12:

WONDER'FULL CHRISS'MASTIME

"Ga'wd, I'm sh'o sch'toned," Christine said with a giggle as she let her heavy head fall back on my shoulder. "Don't y'ou juss luv it?"

Christine and I laid there enjoying our drunken highs and post-orgasms for a few peaceful minutes, me stroking her hair, and her rubbing my chest. I couldn't stop thinking about the sex.

"That was awesome," I heard myself say.

"Sh'ee how go'o we sor'ity g'irlsh are?" Christine slurred with pride. 

"And that blow job," I added. 

"Yeeeah, we g'irl'sch kn'ow how to par'tee," she said proudly with a stoned giggle. 

Then it hit me. Despite the booze and the hits of pot, I instantly got worried. "Shit, your Mom wants to leave soon," I said in a bit of a panic. There we were naked, laying on the couch. They could come down at any minute! I sat up, causing Christine to roll off me and collapse in a drunken and stoned mess on the couch. 

"Awww, it'll be f'ine, Mi'key. Juss re'lax," she said. "En'joy b'eing h'iiiiiigh l'ike me."

"No, we should get up and dressed," I said, standing up. I was conscious now that I was naked. All I needed was someone from my Mom's party upstairs coming down and seeing me naked with my junk hanging out. I would never hear the end of it. I reached down and rolled the condom off and tossed it in the garbage can making sure to hide it within the trash. 

I turned around. Christine was laying there on the couch naked, in her own little world. 

And then my panic instantly subsided. All I could do was look at what a beautiful, shapely creature Christine had become. She was lost in a stoney gaze as she watched herself wave her arms drunkenly in the air. Her huge breasts rose magnificently from her chest and because of their size, fell into and filled her armpits. They were huge and I watched hypnotized as they jiggled and rippled with every move of her arms. 

I couldn't believe I had just fucked her. 

She was amazing. 

And then, just like that, the panic returned. I heard the door upstairs open and a voice call down, "Christine? Hon, you down there?"

It was Mrs. Carole!

I instinctively ran behind the couch and ducked down to cover my nakedness.

"Yeeeeahhh," Christine said as she lay completely naked and spread out on the couch without a care. She was still gazing up at her waving arms.

"Hey, I'm going to leave here shortly. Can you say your goodbyes and we'll get going?" 

"Sh'uuuure, Mom" she said letting her arms dropped down to her side. Slowly she sat up and I watched as her huge breasts rolled out from her armpits and fell from her chest as gravity did its thing. 

"Okay, hon. Come up in about five." And with that, we heard the door close. 

We had averted disaster a second time. 

Christine turned her head to look at me still hiding behind the couch. "Dork," she said with a smile. 

It didn't take long for Christine and I to get dressed and put back together which was lucky for me given how much alcohol and pot Christine had consumed. Christine seemed like an old drunken pothead pro. She stumbled and and moved, but she seemed to know what she was doing. I, on the other hand, was not used to the high I was under. Still, the three bouts of panic helped to sober me up. 

And then came the saddest part of the evening: Christine put on her bra, shirt, and sweater. Her huge, beautiful breasts put away ad out of view, just like that. 

"I'm really glad you came tonight," I said trying to make conversation.

Christine busted out laughing. 

"I didn't mean it that way," I apologized. 

Christine continued to laugh as she swung her purse over her shoulder and put her pipe and lighter away. She was still swaying and stumbling, but with all the clothes back on, she did look a bit more presentable.

She was a pro all right. And, like she said, she came prepared. She pulled some Visine out of her purse and dropped a few drops in each eye. She even pulled out some breath freshener and sprayed it into her mouth. Then, using a pocket mirror, she touched up her hair and applied some lipstick.

"How d'o I lo'ok?" she asked, putting the mirror away.  

"Amazing," I said with a smile. "Though I did like you better with the santa hat on." 

"I mean," she said blushing a bit. "Do I lo'ok drun'g and sch'toned?"

"Uh, you still seem drunk and stoned."

"Tha'ss 'cause I y'am," she said. "But do I lo'ok drun'g and sch'toned?"

"Well, maybe you shouldn't talk."

Christine gave me a look. "I'll be f'ine," she said. "I git sch'toned a lot an' haven't be'en ca'aught by my Mom yet. I'm pr'etty go'od at ig'noring the hiigh."

"Ignoring the high?"

"Yeeeah," she said. "You kn'ow, if y'ou sch'top an' s'ink a'bout how h'iiigh you are, you'll f'eel it b'ig time. An then, it t'ot'lly t'ake'sch o'fer and bam, y'our in la la l'and. I kn'ow wh'en to sh'ut th'at off," she said like a real expert. "My prob'lem here th'ough is I'm kinda drun'g at th'e mom'ent and thass gonna t'ake sum con'cen'tration."

I immediately started thinking about the stoney feeling coursing through my body and sure enough, the second I started thinking about it, it grew more powerful. I started to get lost in it! 

"Here," I heard her say, waking me from my daze. "U'se th'is." Christine was handing me her Visine. 

I took it from her. "You can tell?" I said.

Christine started laughing. "You're sh'uch a noob!"  

"Well, I'm sure you'll be fine," I said although I really wasn't too sure if she would be. 

"Whoa, I ne'arleee forgot," she said as she reached back into her purse and pulled out a pad of paper and an pen. I watched as she paged through the small pad, got to a certain page, looked over at me and then crossed something off. 

She then turned the page and gazed back over to me with a quizzical look. "Heeey," she said. "Do you still talk to Brian?"

"Brian from Parker?" I asked. "Yeah, I still keep up with him on email. Why?"

"Can I ha've his e'mail?" she asked. 

"Um, sure," I said puzzled as to what she was doing. 

"He're," she said as she turned to a new page on the pad of paper and pushed it over to me. "You c'an w'rite it he're."

I took her pen and printed Brian's email on the page. "Sure," I said as I wrote it out. "What exactly is this?"

"Thiss?" she asked gesturing to the pad. 

"Yeah," I said as I finished writing his address and gave her back her pen. 

"It'sch juss a to-do liss't," she said nonchalantly.

"A list?"

"Yeah, I hav' a li'st."

"Like Santa?"

"Well, ye'ah, bu' thiss one is def'nitly naugh'teee," she said giving me a devilish grin. 

And with that Christine gave me a wink and slowly walked toward the stairs. 

"Not bad," I said admiring her lack of stumbling. "But I think I can help." 

I shut off the lights to the bar and walked up to her as she stood at the foot of the stairs. 

"Please," I said as I offered her my arm. 

"Thank'sch," she said.

"Oh, and," I said as I pointed up at the ceiling overhead. 

Christine looked up and smiled with half-lidded eyes as she saw the Christmas decoration hanging from the ceiling. She drunkenly grabbed my cheek and pulled me in for one more passionate kiss. 

"Merry Christmas," I said. 

"Mer'ry fug'gin' Chriss'mas," she corrected me. 

And together we walked up the stairs as straight and sober as we possibly could.  

The End.