Alcohol

               After hours of searching, I had finally found laundry soap. It was relieving, and I felt like I accomplished something more than I really accomplished. The hamper basket was towering with stinky unwashed clothes, like he didn’t ever dare clean or wash his clothes.

               “Clarisse, what are you doing?” I hadn’t noticed Wilbur sneak out of his room.

               “Umm, I’m cleaning.”  ‘Not like you ever do’. I bit back the harsh words I so wanted to throw at him. He put his arms around me and smiled.

               “Cool.” Then he did the unexpected, he put his mouth on my shoulder with a little pressure. Then he looked into my eyes, kissing me slowly.

               “Did that hurt?” he asked in a caring way. I looked away.

               “Would you hurt me on purpose?” I asked him, my head still turned away.

               “Well, of course not! I would never intentionally hurt anyone.”  He hugged me and kissed me once again.

               “Then, why did you ask if you hurt me?” I looked into his crystal eyes. He was silent for a second.

               “I didn’t want to hurt you; I was making sure I hadn’t.” He returned my stare, rubbing my sides, inching towards my tits. I pulled away from him, we’d just met and yet he wants to try to feel me up? Wilbur looked puzzled; I could see it smeared on his face.

               He wondered into the laundry room, returning with a bottle of wine. Somehow, he could sense my appetite for alcohol. He gently placed the bottle on the table I had half cleared off. He rummaged around and got two wine glasses out. He glanced at me, saw the excitement in my soul, and handed me one.

               “You like alcohol, right?” He asked popping the lid off the wine bottle.

               “Yes, I love alcohol!” I said with enthusiasm. I walked over to him as he ventured into the living room, wine in hand. Setting the wine on the cluttered table, he pushed everything that was on the couch onto the floor. I hugged him from behind once he put his glass down. He grabbed mine from my hands and picked me up. I marveled his strength as he put me on the couch.

               “How much to you want and what do you want to watch on TV?” he asked me picking up the open wine bottle.

               “I don’t care, and I don’t care.” I told him. I noticed the wine had a strong alcohol level, as he poured some into my glass. Next, he filled his, I watched him fiddle with the VT, his arms reaching up exposing part of his back.

               “What about, No Hard Feelings?” he said over his shoulder.

               “Sure,” I said sipping on the wine. The flavor was explicit, and as Wilbur sat down the movie started. He clinked his glass with mine and smiled his sweet smile. After the third glass my stomach was on fire. I felt whossey.

               “Wilbur, I don’t think I should drink anymore.” I told him.

Author's Note

Do you like the suspense? and her getting drunk?