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"Maybe we should go home," Vicky suggested.
"I don't think I should drive," Sarah mumbled.
"I'll do it," Vicky offered. "Give me your keys."
"They're inside," Sarah said.
"OK, come on," Vicky said, pulling Sarah along with her.
Re-entering the house, the two women quickly said goodbye to the few sober people they encountered, then went out the front door. Reaching the car, Vicky helped Sarah into the passenger's seat, got in the driver's seat, and set off toward her apartment.
As Vicky drove, Sarah began snoring, and Vicky once more admired her legs, eventually placing her right hand on Sarah's inner thigh. The flesh was damp and slippery, and Vicky let her fingers gently skate over the hot skin. Vicky tried to drive slowly. Even so, the trip went too quickly. Pulling into a parking space, Vicky shut off the car, and then roused Sarah.
"Where are we?" Sarah inquired, sleepily.
"My place," Vicky answered.
"Why?" Sarah asked, confused.
"You said you couldn't drive, so I did," Vicky told her.
Vicky helped Sarah as she stumbled up the stairs, and into the apartment. Sarah announced she wanted to go home, but Vicky led her into the bedroom. She convinced the younger woman to sit down on the edge of the bed, then turned to walk into the bathroom. Less than a minute later, she returned with a washcloth and a towel. Sarah lay across the bed fast asleep.
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