This is a print version of story Thirsty by VaginaPirate from


Alcohol should not have been how it began. But we were heavy drinkers then. A shot for laughs, and few more after that, plus the drinks in our hands. Who were we trying fool? Swapping cigarettes back and forth and praying it might taste of our mouths. It’s strange how I didn’t think of a****ls until you touched me. That night, on the hood of the van. Your hands over my own and on my neck. A phantom now, I still feel it. In my mind, like a shutter on a camera. Capturing bits and pieces of moments that alcohol did not deteriorate. We felt like snakes. Two more shots now, and I think we are on to something. The feel of other people, the familiar ring of their cell phones. The lights began to look spread out like water on a windshield. And still we were snakes. Bumping into each other and pulling apart like smoke. I had claws and you had claws. We were snatching at each other. Harder and harder now. I could almost feel these imaginary things on my body. This smoke, these scales, those nails. And I’m hinting about bed rooms and blankets. Complaining of the cold just so you can warm me. Touch me, taste me, feel me, desire me, want me, so much that we burn with passion. So much that it aches. Tow drinks later and I’m in a backseat. One back seat later, we are at your front door. Now I’m stumbling to your bedroom, but how I knew were it was, I’ll never know. So I make your bed and lay down. Pretend I have every intention of sl**p. But my claws they gently run down your spine. They tickle lightly at your skin. So your eyes open. You stare at me knowingly. I never though of being deaf until I was in your bed that night. I thought about how my eyes would talk to you. How you would stare down into my pupils and read my soul. And how like now, you would see the yearning in my eyes. Maybe I’ve had too much to drink. Yes? We have? Well, I don’t give a damn. And neither should you. You coil tightly around my body, press me hard into you. But you do it like a dance, like water. And you seem to coat every bit of me. With your flesh and with your hands. You’re drenching me and drowning me so I gasp for breath. How quickly your hands have moved, like spiders. Coated in webs of passion, I’m now burning alive. In my soul and in my mind. Like we were made into a cocktail, shaken and stirred. I’m dizzy, d***k, and forgetful, as the vodka, but you being as the water, keep rhythm with your tides. You wash over my legs and navel. You tease my nipples with your mouth. Sucking and pulling them. You leave them damp and swollen. And I know in the morning there will be purples and reds on my body. Like the tides you will have roughly washed me and soften my skin. So I tug at you harder. I pull your hair and suck your tongue. My hands wonder to yours where I lace my fingers in tightly. And you stare at me then. You calm all in an instant. Like a fires slow burn turning out its last smoke. The water slows and lightly sloshes. The claws retract. We hear cars and the ticking of rain. A few birds out side telling of what they‘ve seen. Noticing mostly sounds that were muted in the midst of passion. Muted by the sound of the ocean, muted by sweet breaths and sighs. Suddenly now we understand just how beautifully created is human. How parts and pieces fit. How the other persons breathing becomes static, slowly casting a spell on your brain. Heavier eyes begin to feel, and sl**p stokes hair and lips. And how incredibly thirsty you become, but neither of you are waking for water. But we were heavy drinkers then. Who were we trying to fool?

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