Dear Stephen Ambrose, please include things like this.

So this would be part fantasy, part recollection. Historical fiction, I guess would be an appropriate term.
I'm at a party. Which automatically means I've been drinking. It's a traditional house party, with awkward friends of friends and a mess of accidental hookups. People are spilling into the backyard, into the bedrooms, and there are very few limits because in some context, everyone kind of knows everyone.
There is, of course, a friend of a friend (of a friend?) who I don't know, but she's cute. Full hips and ass, narrow shoulders, lush mess of dirty blonde waves. She's probably in her late twenties (I was 20 at this point, so imagine me even more doe eyed). And I think she likes me. We've been bumping into each other all night but have yet to have the full "I met this great person last night at Dave's party" conversation. But it seemed almost inevitable at this point.
I was, as I usually am, a friend of a friend. I do well at parties, but my friends rarely are the kind who throw them. But yet, here I was oscillating around some pleasant girl. We bumped into each other while I was having a cigarette outside, then again by the couch in the living room where someone was playing a video game and I didn't know where else to go, so I assumed that the non speaking, passive role was going to work for at least 15 minutes or so.
It wasn't until things were completely winding down that we got to have the longer conversation. A good number of people were sleeping over and we had already taken over the couch in the basement by plopping down on either side and extending our legs while she told me about her grad program. The basement was small, and there was really no other place to collapse down there, leaving the room solely to us.
I'm actually a fairly shy person, and so I'm almost never going to be the one to make the first move. I'm generally going to need to be kissed first, or at least touched first, and so only bad things happen when I'm with another shy person. On the grand scheme of things, she would have been more in the normal category, so less shy than me but still no one was making a move. The combination of my legs touching hers and the half dozen drinks I had, though, were making me fucking wet. I could feel my nipples scraping the inside of my bra already and I started to twitch my legs a little just to rub them against hers. Casually. I'm big on the "is this intentional?" flirting. That's actually about all I can do.
It took her a while but FINALLY she put her hand on my leg, rubbing it softly, fingers trailing up to my knee and back down, then back around the calf. It was another tipsy move on her part as the finesse of the whole thing was something to be desired, but none the less. I was a young little thing and it was enough to turn my crank hard. I could already feel myself so soaking wet and this was enough touch to drive me insane. I didn't know what to do to let me know I wanted to eat her out more than anything.
I yawned. This was not the intended move on my part to show my interest, but it was so late and I was still tipsy. She smiled and told me to come snuggle with her. She scooted down on the couch and I crawled up into the nook make between her arm and her body. This was close enough, I was tired. We talked for a few minutes and she finally tuned to me and I lifted my face to see her.
"You're really pretty."
"Thank you."
"I mean, I think you're really sexy."
JACKPOT. I smiled at her compliments and brushed rose, I'm sure and she finally leaned down and kissed me. I kissed her back with a naive 20 year old's fervor to kiss; with an aggressive, wanton lack of polish sitting on my lips. She kissed with more subtlety, her tongue making lace patterns on my lips and tongue. Her hand found my lower back and slipped under the hem of my shirt, so I could feel her fingers pulsing against my skin, tightening and then releasing, pulling me to straddle her thigh.
I did as she instructed and shifted so she could lay underneath me. Her other hand landed on my lower back as well and after a few more minutes I could sense her actively pulling my hips against her. I would never have thought of fighting her, and my hips went where she led, rocking hard against her thigh, which pushed back against me, trying to push denim against cotton, against clit. I whimpered a little into her mouth and she smiled, fingers starting to sneak into the back of my jeans.
I was soaked, already prepared for my jeans to bear the growing circle of evidence.
It was at this point where we heard the door open and a step taken. I froze, going limp on top of her body, hands being pulled to a respectful place. Our eyes slid shut and I nuzzled back down a little. We heard a few more footsteps and someone craning down to see if the couch was already taken, which it was by two sleeping girls. The footsteps retracted and the door was shut once again.
We smiled, which turned to giggles and the moment was already so far gone we know there was no reclaiming.
"You sleepy?" I nodded, her hands starting to rub my back. "Me too." She kissed the top of my head and laid back, arm still softly stroking the small of my back.
I fell asleep, though I have no idea how long. It happened easily enough and I assumed that she had, too. I woke to a bit of a jarring rhythm. I was asleep enough to still not move, though my eyes dragged themselves open. I could feel her moving underneath me. I slightly twitched my head and the movements froze. I tried to pretend I was still asleep, not wanting to disturb her but she was paralyzed. I shifted my eyes down just slightly and saw what she had been doing and was now hiding. Her jeans were open and her hand was wrist deep inside them. I froze as well, praying there was a chance she thought I was still asleep.
There must have been at least a question in her mind, as she didn't even flinch to remove her hand. I stopped before moving again, my hand moving up and to her waistband. She was frozen, more not knowing what to do than anything else, I imagine. I slip my hand into her jeans, under the waist of her panties, and right next to her hand, which still had her fingers firmly on her throbbing clit. I could feel her pulse in her pussy.
I started to move my fingers over her, making her gasp from surprise. Her fingers shifting to give me full access to her, but pulling the waist of her jeans tight across my fore arm, restricting what I could do. I rubbed her clit in circles, flicking it back and forth with the pads of my fingers.
She squirmed and I finally felt by her panties just how soaked she was, and realized just how long she had been wet. She pulled her hand out of her pants and tugged down her jeans, but left her underwear in a token of modesty. My hand moved underneath them, working a finger and then two inside of her.
I arched my thumb up to rub her clit and she responded immediately, whimpering behind tightly pursed lips, trying not to arouse anyone who may be in the house. Her hips rocked up, arching against my hand as I didn't even inch my head away from where it lay on her chest.
Her arm was already wrapped around my shoulders and resting on my back, but now her fingers tensed, slightly pinching me through my shirt in a way which could only be described as desperate and without purpose. My leg, slung over hers casually now pinned her to the couch, holding her left leg down while the other was free to bent and arch and open, though all of these moments were little more than subtle.
She fucked my fingers. Faster and harder, she arched up against my hand, forcing me to grind into her, which I did without hesitation. I could feel her pussy pulling me in deeper, squeezing my fingers together and then releasing. I spread my fingers as she tensed, pushing back against her, stretching her just a little.
She finally let out a moan and bucked up once more, cumming, drenching my hand, her panties, and leaving the faintest of wet spots on the couch below. I waited and then pulled my hand out of her panties, letting her pull her jeans back up and readjusting my head on her chest, yawning, and not waiting long before I fell back asleep in silence.