When I was still an undergrad, not that many years ago, NYE was just about the most reliable night of the year for a drunk girl hook-up. It’s what the whole holiday is designed for, right? It’s still not easy, but an opportunity for hard work to pay off.
In high school, my girlfriend rubbed me off through my pants at an outdoor party (my first real NYE party) while the ball dropped (she’s another story—the girl who got me off regularly for a year without ever giving up her virginity to me). My expectations have been desperately high since then. It’s Pavlovian.
I think I’ve scored at a countdown party only twice: once with a stranger and once with a friend who wouldn’t have ever let me bang her under normal circumstances.
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