The Crook

"Ok just take a sip." He gave his crooked smile and pushes the concoction toward me. I slowly reached toward the glass hoping he wouldn't noticed my shaking hands. I was still a novice at pot smoking and limb tics seemed to be my cue as to when it was starting to hit. It was sad to say that I was pourd that I managed to take a sip without spilling it. Grape. It was all grape. He laughed at the look at my face.
"You said I couldn't taste the evil grape anymore!" I could feel the squeak coming on in my voice. Another tale tell sign of highness. And he could tell. He scooted his wheeled chair over closer- not so smoothly. He was feeling it too.
"Ooops. My bad."
He leaned in for a kiss, smacking his cotton dry mouth. Drunk kissing was the best.
We pulled away and attempted to start conversation again, but it was soon clear that wasn't going to happen.
"So. Thinking.... Eh thinking we should start making out my bed."
I jumped up and pulled off my dress.
"Beat you there." I jumped in and tried to do the best sexy face the weed would allow me to do.
"You're going down."
Well. More he did.
I don't know what it was about him. Or if it was him at all or just some concoction of liquor and weed. But the time I spend writhing with him in bed created on of the most amazing spine tingling sensations. We're talking multiple times. Screams. Near passing out. And that sound that he would make at the end drove me wild.
I unmounted him with a sigh of ecstasy. He leaned back into his pillow, panting. I sat at the foot of the bed and scrambled to find my bra in the pile of discarded clothing.
"Where you going?"
He held out his arms.
" Come here. I know you don't like this. But just come here."
"You know it's against my rules."
" I don't care. Get over here."
So I fell into his arms and let him hold me.

I hope I won't regret it.