'Hangover'

This was a piece I wrote to challenge myself; others had shared pieces with graphic subject matters outside my writing comfort zone and I was unsure if I could approach myself. I decided to see that would happen if I tried.

The result received the most mixed reactions I have experienced; encouraging words were followed by a scathing stylistic critique. Perhaps I was so focused on the subject I lapsed when it came to placing it on paper - but before attempting a rewrite I thought it worth perhaps publishing the piece in its original from.

--

Waking up the smell of stagnation and alcohol immediately invades my head and I feel ashamed and deflated. I need to escape. I have not yet opened my eyes and easiest is to postpone encountering reality just a little longer.

As I go to move in this helpless state I find I cant, that I am blocked. Through the creeping nausea which comes to me in waves I'm piecing it together, I'm hot, hotter then normal and part of me, no parts are numb. Then as fleeting pang of intelligence strikes I sense to my horrified dismay someone is there.

She is there.

Next to me.

No, glued to me as I confirm with a glance. With my eyes now fully open I see that like one living mass our arms and legs are entangled; with ankles missing to sheets we almost appear whole and unending. I would like to say we had sex but we have didn't, we've fucked - as if to stress the point I have to wiggle one of my arms free to finish extracting the tip of my long since flaccid penis.

Then it starts to come back to me in flashes. First there was the evening out over beer 1 then 2 3 4. As it turned to night friends start to leave but I'm doing shots. Then alone in the bar, the drunk text and feeling the beginnings of arousal at my plan. One more drink now I'm drunk then feel bad and want to go home. She says she'll help me so comes with me. I'm in the kitchen, I'm changing my mind then she unzips my trousers and takes me in her hand. She knows how to handle a man, she's massaging it, rubbing and as the blood surges downwards in sin she wraps her mouth around it, licks the tip and blows me hard.

I heave and tear myself separate. An overwhelming desire to be free of this and I need to get some water so like a pilgrim to a holy place I'm dragging foot after foot in search of the kitchen. I don't really even know who has used who this time, it seemed like the latest episode in a long running series chronicling the shifting of seductive power and sexual, animal tension. The irony being I did not a thing to break this cycle.