Back in college, alcohol proposed a dilemma: You needed it to get things flowing (parties, parties of two, etc.) but it tasted like crap. Beer was awful, wine was nothing more than cough syrup gone bad and hard liquor was at best toxic. So, what changed between then and now? Cash flow. Once I had a real job I could afford better than free cases of Old Millwater, Whitehouse vodka and well, whatever skunked wine we could steal without my parents noticing. In fact, since my undergraduate days, I’ve become quite the connoisseur of finer beers and liquors.
Not long ago, a couple days after Valentine’s Day, I came home from work to learn that I had received a registered mail notification. My experience told me that registered mail brings bad portents, however it was something that had to be handled. The next day, I left work a little early to stop at the post office. I opened the letter in the car and read, re-read, and read one more time the contents. My divorce was final. In fact, it was signed by the judge two days ago: Valentine’s Day. Irony was alive and well. Of course, this convergence of happenstance had to be shared. For the next two hours, I was on the phone with a dozen or so friends laughing. I spoke with my college roommates, my drinking buddies and even a few clients. It was the last call to a client that was the most memorable.
Shannon was a brash red-head a few years older than me who believe that anything you really wanted was worth purchasing. She worked hard to obtain the successful career, planned well for a stunning house and put great effort into making herself a better person. For her, this often coincided with being more assertive.
When I was going through my divorce, she set me straight on quite a few matters: From spreading my application of marital blame to paring back my willingness to help my ex, she really did guide me towards a healthier lifestyle. And, this night was no different.
“Congratufuckinglations. So, what are you going to do about it?” She asked.
“I don’t know. I’m probably going to the gym, then I’ll stop in on my parents for a bit.” I said lamely. In an attempt to save face, I added, “Tomorrow night, I am heading out with some friends?”
“OK, you” she deliberately stressed the second word, “need to let loose and celebrate. I’m taking you out to dinner. Do you know that brewpub near work? I’ll meet you there in an hour and a half.”
“Oh great,” I thought. You can’t turn down a client.
I cleaned up, finished the load of laundry I had started, skipped the gym and arrived at the pub to find her waiting with a table. She held out a beer menu and said, “The selection at this pub’s not bad. They antalya escort brew their own without preservatives so you have to get it while it is fresh.” It is also a bit on the heavy side. Heavy beer has more alcohol. I knew I had to watch what I drank.
The meal was very good and the conversation fantastic. She really was an impressive individual. Smart, funny, confident and as I was quickly discovering, opinionated. She was pontificating on the virtues of rum and Diet Coke. I had to remind her that this place was her choice and she knew ahead of time that they only had beer.
“I know that, I am just saying that if you really want to be social, you have to drink hard liquor.”
Now, I liked my brand of vodka. Other vodkas were just not acceptable. At the time there were only a half dozen brands that I would drink and most of those would only be used for mixing. I guess you can say that I was (and still am) a bit snobbish when it comes to this topic. “OK, that is great, but there isn’t much we can do about it here.”
“We are going somewhere else after dinner, right?”
“Do you mean dancing?” Silently praying she didn’t.
“No, for drinks.”
“Sure, how about this great little martini bar down the road?”
“Check please!” she called to the waitress. “Get your coat on. As soon as I pay for this, we’re getting.”
“No, I can’t let you pay for this,” I protested.
“I insist.” She paused for a brief moment. She turned back to me and said, “And don’t argue with me. You don’t want to see me mad.” I had seen her mad before. She was right.
We drove 10 blocks, parked the car in a garage, and walked to the bar to find out that it had gone out of business. “Well, that shows how often I get out.”
I offered that the liquor store a block back had its lights when we passed it. “Why don’t we pick up a few bottles of vodka that I have been dying to try and go back to my place? I have rum…several kinds. And if you are willing to put up with Diet Pepsi instead of Diet Coke, I am sure I can make up for this unproductive side trip.”
30 minutes later, we were back at my place at my kitchen table with a half dozen open bottles of vodka and a stack of shot glasses. I began pouring. “So, how about a game of cards while we sit and drink?”
I don’t remember what game we played, and I am not really sure it mattered. It was just a backdrop for a lot of chatting, laughing and drinking. I know I mixed her 3 Rum and Diet Cokes and that I have a heavy pour.
We played a number of games, each one a little sloppier than the last. Instead of crisply handing the cards back and forth, we leaned against each other. antalya escort bayan Increasingly, we touched and even started unconsciously inching closer.
I had been trying a shot of a new vodka 15 minutes or so. But, when I went to pour the fourth of the six, she put her hand on the bottle and said “No, you’re cut off.”
“But I don’t have to drive and it’s Friday so I don’t have to go into work.”
But she held her hand resolutely and leaned in closer. “I am saving you from a hangover. That is not what you want, is it?”
“I don’t know. What else are you offering to save me from?”
“Well, I already saved you from a boring night. What else do you have in mind?” She winked at me. Well, she may have winked. She could just have been drunk enough not be able to keep one eye open. “Do you need to be saved from an entire night alone?”
“Define ‘Saved’.”
She quickly shrank her already close proximity and kissed me squarely on the lips. I was not ready for that. For the past half dozen years, I had not kissed anyone but my now recently exed-wife. So, with nothing stopping me, I kissed her back.
We helped each other out of our chairs. My “suave” move sloppily tilted me in the direction of the living room but sorely lacked the power needed to get us there. We landed laughing on the kitchen floor.
She re-established the kiss and added her hands on my shoulders and neck. I reciprocated, moving my hands down her arms and back up her sides. We spent a very long time kissing and touching on the hard porcelain floor. “Can we go somewhere more comfortable? This is starting to hurt.” she asked.
I kissed her on the lips and helped her up where we embraced. “Where would you like to go.” She led me towards the open bedroom door. I thought about telling her that the living room was a little closer but instead made the smart decision to concentrate on walking without falling.
We landed on my bed in a tangle of arms and legs, mostly my arms and legs. I was fairly certain that hers were right where she wanted them to be. I tried to deftly reciprocate her caresses, touching her gently, teasing what was ever so close to my fingers. I knew I wanted her to enjoy this and that I wanted it to last a long time. So, I paid close attention to every curve I found, I traced every line as she did the same to me. My lips left hers, travelling around her neck, biting and nibbling along the way encouraged by her soft moans.
I really didn’t notice her hand slip down my back and inside of my belt, however when her hand went deep enough to firmly grab my ass, I jumped. She held on even tighter, giving me all the permission escort antalya I needed to move my own hands beneath the folds of her clothes. Her skin was electric, tansmitting excitement through my hands which returned it to her flesh. The energy grew, was reinforced, and transformed by our ministrations until I found myself cradling her soft fleshy globes with her nipples between my teeth and her hands rearranging my hair.
Our bodies were now clothed in naught but underwear below our waists, our pelvises grinding the cloth between us as we faced each other, kissing and fondled whatever we could reach. I could feel her warmth and wetness seeping through her panties as she ground them against my leg, my cock growing harder with each movement.
She slowly pushed me on my back, rolling on top of me, her pussy never losing contact with my leg. She never stopped rubbing her thoroughly soaked panties into me. With her tongue now kept busy by my explorations, she traced the curve of my hard prick, still covered in cloth, with her own sex. We were so very close, still so far apart. I let my fingers drift around her back, feeling the elastic of her waistband, slipping under, touching her crack, tickling her ass as I slowly, ever so slowly slid her panties down. But, before I could get them out from between us, she ground down hard on my cock, whimpering as she came. And, in her temporary state of stasis, I rolled her over, pulled her legs straight up, and slid her panties up her legs, far enough for me to have my face in her musky folds, but not far enough to allow her movement.
And then, my tongue darted into her, slid up the sides of her labia, swirled around her lips and dipped back in, pulling out her cream. I let my tongue, covered in her, slide out of my mouth, on display for her to see. Her head came up for a kiss, her body bending in half to get down to me. But, no. I drew my tongue back in, slurping her juices. Damn, I needed more. I flattened my tongue and swirled it from her ass up to her clit, twisting that nub, massaging it till she squirmed, and then moving back down.
By the third time, she realized that I moved on when she started squirming, so she stayed perfectly still as I focused on her most pleasureful spot. I could feel her shake as she tried desperately not to squirm. Her legs almost vibrated as she endeavored to hold perfectly still. I could feel her pussy pulsate as she was about to cum again
And then, once again, she whimpered. Longer this time, but just as sexily. I just lay there, watching her folds convulse with the most intimate of sensations. She was so beautiful, stunning, and vulnerable during her cum.
I don’t remember much more after that. I know I got off twice that night. I might have passed out. I might have blacked out. I might have simply fallen asleep. Regardless, between the alcohol and the release of so much sexual energy we were sated and happy…until the hangover the next morning.