Asher
Vodka does wonders to calm the soul. Unfortunately, halfway through my glass of it, my soul is as erratic as ever. Swirling the clear liquid creates flickers of light on the hard planes of the crystal. All at once I tighten my wrist, freezing my arm, but the vodka continues to dance.
It moves the way the performers did tonight. Swaying, rocking, undulating across the stage. But I barely recall the show. My mind is somewhere else.
When I take a drink of the alcohol, all I taste is her.
Camila.
She didn’t just let me nurse on her pretty little p***y; she actively encouraged me. Her desire drove my own. Then, later, she returned the favor in the car.
Shutting my eyes, I exhale shakily. The memory of her soft lips wrapped around my c**k gets me drunker than the vodka. My soul is tr
