The Journey of the Granny Panties

Looking back, I probably should’ve never gone out. I hadn’t been feeling well for a few days- I was still recovering from the pink eye I got a few days back from when I wore my contact lenses to sleep, but Sigma Beta was having a party and my roommate Alexa was making it hard to say no.

“You haven’t been out with us in over a week. Come on, it’s just one party and I’ll have you home by midnight.”
“You make it sound like a week is an eternity.”
“It is in Frat years. Come on, it’ll be fun.”
“Ugh… what about my antibiotics? I’m not supposed to be drinking.”
“Do people really follow those rules? Come on Sarah. You’re just making excuses now.”
I sighed. “Ugh… Fine.”

So I threw on some clothes and we were off.


When we got to Sigma Beta, the party was already in full swing. Alexa quickly got lost in a crowd of indistinguishable frat boys who were pushing her towards a keg that some poor freshman was passed out next to. I needed to get drunk as quickly as possible- that’s basically the only rule at a party like this if you want to have fun. I squeezed my way past two girls I semi recognized in tops that only just covered their nipples and found my way to the bar. I was relieved to find that Sigma Beta actually had some decent alcohol tonight- real brand name vodka and cranberry juice. I ordered my vodka cran and waited for the bartender- okay, a pledge- to do his thing. While I waited, I turned around to scan the crowd and there he was. About 20 feet away, I saw him eyeing me with lust in his eyes. He wasn’t beautiful, but he wasn’t terrible either – and I hadn’t gotten any in a long time, so I wasn’t picky. I took my drink from the pledge/bartender and made my way over to my new friend. “I’m Sarah,” I said. I got no reply. Instead, semi-cute stranger took my hand and pulled me onto the dance floor, now overflowing with a terrible guy-to-girl ratio. “What’s your name,” I tried to scream to him over the music, but suddenly the beat dropped and I knew there was no way he could hear me. I gave up trying to learn his name. Why did I care, anyway? He was good for two things- looking good and pleasing me. I started moving under his grip and quickly we were getting hot on the dance floor. Before I knew it, his hands were sliding under my skirt, and that’s when I remembered. Fuck. Shit. I was in such a fucking hurry to get ready and I hadn’t done laundry in days and I was feeling sick and, and, fuck. I was wearing granny panties. Fucking granny panties.


I was so embarrassed I could cry. I peeled out of his arms and ran back to the bar to take three shots of vodka so I wouldn’t remember the rest of the night. If I was going to hook up with this guy in my granny panties, I was going to do it blackout drunk. Lucky for me, I’m a lightweight, so the shots settled in quickly, and I found him standing by the door, slightly confused. I held his face up to mine and I kissed him. “Let’s go,” I said, pretty drunk at this point. I took his hand and let him out of the party. And the last thing I remember is quietly sneaking out of his room.


When I got back to my apartment, Alexa was wide awake and apparently worried sick that I was dead in a ditch somewhere. “Where have you been,” she screamed in my over-sensitive ears. My drunkenness hadn’t worn off, so I was still giggling like a child and red in the face. “I met a guy,” I told her. “But you’re not gonna believe this.” I proceeded to lift my skirt to show Alexa the granny panties I was able to still get some in. But her face didn’t reflect the reaction I anticipated. “Um… Sarah?” I looked at her in confusion. Was she that flabbergasted that I was able to score in my laundry day undies? “You’re not wearing any underwear…” Holy shit. I slowly looked down and- low and behold- there was my crotch for the world- well, my roommate- to see.


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