This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Kutztown chapter.
My heartbeat races in my chest, like a baby hare sprinting to escape the gaze of a pack of wolves. Pushing through my altered state, the tiny voice in the back of my head pounds in my ears, belting at me to say no. Despite consuming a copious amount of alcohol, I knew what I was doing was wrong. But how could I possibly say no when her mouth tastes of Malibu and cranberry juice and her skin smells like sweat and vanilla? My drunken fingers dance across her body in a sloppy, beautiful way. She seduces me with ease, revealing my lack of self control, or perhaps my weakness. Engulfed in lust, the dwindled echo of my conscience fizzes throughout my brain like a can of soda ready to explode, but never does. This is wrong.