The woman watched him closely. Her lips curved into a flirtatious smile, but ever so subtly. Nothing wrong could ever come about hard liquor. It loosened tongues and jumbled thoughts, and sent the intoxicated individuals in a swaggering dance of total self absorption. So who wasn’t to say she didn’t enjoy getting others drunk as much as she got drunk herself? Julian was making good progress, from what she could tell. But the true persona that he was under the influence, she suspected, had not yet reared its ugly head.
But with each pass of bitter liquid down her gullet emerged the prospect of a suitable bed mate. It’s been more than a week since she’s had one, which just wouldn’t do at all. “By all means, order twelve more pints of ale and we’ll see just how much of that sanity of yours is intact, sweet thing.” She smirked, “Marriage. What a trifle. Bonding yourself to one person is so selfish. It’s much more productive to spread your coitus skills to anyone who is willing to learn.”
Then she stood, approaching her seated acquaintance with a glint in her ebony eyes. With one fluid motion, she had gripped Julian‘s hair in one hand and pulled his head back, exposing his throat. Naama bent down, her lips pressing lightly over his. “Go on, show me your strength, sweetheart.”
Then she released him. With a wicked grin she grabbed his mug of ale and smashed it into the head of a patron sitting behind her and sent him colliding into the table. There was a chorus of swears and flying fists, and the several of the men turned to address the perpetrator responsible. Naama, leaning against a wooden pillar pointed at Julian and said, “Looks like he’s the only one here missing a drink.”
Brawl on!
But with each pass of bitter liquid down her gullet emerged the prospect of a suitable bed mate. It’s been more than a week since she’s had one, which just wouldn’t do at all. “By all means, order twelve more pints of ale and we’ll see just how much of that sanity of yours is intact, sweet thing.” She smirked, “Marriage. What a trifle. Bonding yourself to one person is so selfish. It’s much more productive to spread your coitus skills to anyone who is willing to learn.”
Then she stood, approaching her seated acquaintance with a glint in her ebony eyes. With one fluid motion, she had gripped Julian‘s hair in one hand and pulled his head back, exposing his throat. Naama bent down, her lips pressing lightly over his. “Go on, show me your strength, sweetheart.”
Then she released him. With a wicked grin she grabbed his mug of ale and smashed it into the head of a patron sitting behind her and sent him colliding into the table. There was a chorus of swears and flying fists, and the several of the men turned to address the perpetrator responsible. Naama, leaning against a wooden pillar pointed at Julian and said, “Looks like he’s the only one here missing a drink.”
Brawl on!