Confessions of a Bitch

Jack Daniels and Cigarettes

 

It’s six o’clock and I have gone through the second bottle of Jack Daniels. Not bad, if you ask me. Hotpants and I sit on the back porch, drinking and taking drags from the old cigarettes we found in the pantry. It doesn’t beat doing white lines with Rhys, though.

“So,” Hotpants says, wiggling his eyebrows, “tell me more.”

I weigh my chances and take another sip from the bottle. By the looks of it, Hotpants is on the verge of being wasted. Actually, we both are. Therefore, there is a high chance he wont remember anything tomorrow. So, I proceed to tell him everything. I tell him my real name: Annabelle Fisher. I talk about my not so fabulous childhood with a gangster father who was paranoid about aliens, because he did so much acid. I even tell him about my relations to Old Man Black, and it’s easy to do, because he doesn’t interrupt. He just sits there, drinking and listening.

“No wonder you stayed away from him,” he slurs.

“Yeah.” My voice is now high pitched. I would be horrified at the sound, if my head wasn’t high on liquor.  I continue telling him my sorry tale. I even give him some more information about Viper and how the texts had begun.

“So, you did piss off someone.” He pokes my shoulder and I burp loudly. We both laugh.

“Yes, you could say so.” I pause for a while before asking, “So, how did you find me in Carnarvon.”

He proceeds to tell me his own side of the story, but the words fly over my head. I watch him closely as I drink more and more. The fluid swirls in my brain and I continue taking long drags from the cigarettes around us. My head is up in the clouds and I couldn’t care less. I should probably stop drinking and smoking. I’m wasting time. I’m not thinking straight anymore. I’m too far gone.

I look at my third bottle of Jack Daniels and throw my head back, before drowning whatever remains in the bottle. Hotpants laughs and proceeds to slug his own beer. As he does so, I can’t help but notice his large Adam’s apple, bobbing up and down. His smoldering green eyes met mine and I lick my lips.

“Like what you see, Blondie?” I don’t reply. Instead, I lean over and kiss him. He takes a sharp intake of breath and I pull away. We look each other in the eye for a few seconds. The feeling of desire and lust ripples through my system, leaving me breathless. Hotpants offers a sly smile and I realize that it is all I need. We lunge at each other and so the act of swapping spit begins on the back porch. Halfway through, we somehow drag our sluggish bodies into the house and we don’t even bother locking the door behind us.

Before we know it, we throw a bedroom door open and begin removing shirts and undoing buttons. Hotpants breath is hot on my skin, and I can feel small beads of sweat forming on the back of my exposed neck. I hold a fistful of his dark curls in my hand as his kisses leave trails of fire across my flesh. He tastes like hard root beer, and our kisses become more feverish. I run my hands across his chest, feeling the large bumps on his stomach and the curly trails leading to the cure beneath his jeans. He pushes me back onto the bed and before I can catch my breath, he falls on top of me and slips his hand between my thighs. I fall back on the pillows and suck hard on his bottom lip, as our night of hard and drunk lovemaking begins.