Have just one drink

You think for a moment. Shannon’s body is still a little excited. In fact, she feels full of energy. Tomorrow… you’re meeting yourself, after he’s probably had a great fucking night drinking and chatting up sluts.

Why should he have all the fun?

“Okay, you know what, fuck that thing. I AM going to have a drink!” You say. Bob looks a little surprised when you say “fuck”. Maybe Shannon is normally well-behaved? Well, not tonight.

You pick up the glass and take a big mouthful of whatever it is. Sweet. Citrus. Just a slight alcoholic bite. Delicious! A “girl” drink, sure, but if there’s ever a time when it’s okay to have one, it’s now.

“Oh, wow, this is great!” You drink more.

“Yeah, this place makes amazing cocktails. I knew you’d like it,” Bob is beaming. You - Shannon - turned his night around twice in a matter of seconds.

The liquor warms Shannon’s throat and sends a pleasant feeling through her body. Bob is rambling again, some dumb shit. You pretend to listen and breathe in through Shannon’s mouth, feeling her big tits rise and fall on her chest. She feels so good as you sip her drink. You think that you’d like to be alone with Shannon at her place right now, even if you don’t have your cock.

“-and then she turned around and said, I don’t know, ask your OTHER boss!” Bob says, holding a stupid grin on his face. Fuck. What was he saying? Must have been a joke or something.

You try to fake a laugh, but to your surprise, it comes out much more genuine than you could have done intentionally. You can’t stop laughing with Shannon’s voice, and her shoulders shake uncontrollably. The sound of her laugh is beautiful, melodic. Bob joins in, and you two are loud enough that you’re drawing some looks from the other patrons.

You put a hand on Shannon’s belly, warm from the **** flowing through it. You try to control her laughter. She feels firm and smooth. It feels nice for you to touch Shannon there. You realize Bob looks perplexed, watching Shannon stroke her abdomen, panting, giggling. You brush the front of her blouse with her fingers, as though you were picking away lint. Bob looks away.

“Um, do you want another one?” Bob gestures to your empty cocktail glass.