We silently ate our pies and chips, interspersed with green peas or other snacks to change things up. I collected a variety of snacks onto my plate and slowly nibbled through them, occasionally taking a sip of the lemonade mixed drink that the intruder into my house had poured for me.
It was only when my head began to buzz that I realised he had spiked it with a bit of vodka. I hadn't really been paying attention earlier, caught up in the atmosphere of the movie. Now I realised it should have been obvious from the smell and the taste. But it was too late. I was already slightly drunk by then.
I didn't like drunk me. She was too bold, outspoken and very... not me. She was all passion, feelings and emotion. Wordy, naggy and a fusspot. Drunk me was also a clingy, impulsive cry baby that behaved as badly as a spoiled child and didn't care for consequences. And then when the alcohol was gone, I would be left to clean up her annoying messes.
Drunk me was irritating and a troublemaker. Sassy and headstrong. I didn't like her and didn't want her to come out at all. But here she was, waking up and there was very little I could do about it.
"Handsome," drunk me rubbed herself up against the man's chest, slurring as she nuzzled him with her nose, "why did you wait so many years before you turned up again? Didn't you say that I was going to be your girl? I've been waiting for you for sooo long."
"Oh?" the man seemed to looked down at me. He took the cup from my hand and put it back on the coffee table along with my plate that was about to drop crumbs all over the place. "Little girl, are you drunk?"
"Drunk? Never!" drunk me declared proudly. "Sober me gets drunk with just a few sips. Drunk me, never gets drunk no matter how much I drink. I can handle an entire flagon all by myself."
"Oh really?" the man chuckled. "Little girl, rubbing yourself all over me like this, are you challenging me?"
"No," drunk me replied. "You just smell nice. Like sawdust and coffee. I also have to get a good feeling of these muscles. Last time, I only got to get a quick look at them. This time, I have to not just look at them but feel them as well."
"You think I look good?" the man leaned back and took off his jacket and shirt with amusement, baring his torso for me to look at and examine in detail.
Cheering at his good humour and tacit consent, I tickled a few chest hairs and circled a finger around one of his nipples, making him shudder, while the other hand traced the outlines of his well defined muscles.
"I haven't seen a better body than yours," drunk me sighed, "and believe me, I looked everywhere. The internet just can't compare with the real thing."
Sober me manage to take control of a naughty hand and slapped myself in the face, trying to wake myself up.
"Wake up. Drunkard, release control of my body at once. I don't want to do this. This guy is dangerous. An intruder. A predator. Don't play with fire."
The hand that slapped my face was caught by my other hand and waved all wibbly-wobbly in the air.
"Keep your hair on, Sober. You only live once. When else are you ever going to get laid?"
"I don't want to get laid!" I shrieked at drunk me, trying to take back control of my hand that was being waved all over the place without rhyme or reason. "This guy won't even show us his face. He tied us up and molested us last time. If we ever see his face, how do you know he's not one of those murderers that kill you as soon as they're done with you?"
"Sober, you're always so paranoid. Look at him. He's always been so nice to us. Even when he was molesting us last time, that was because he was teaching us a lesson. Besides, you enjoyed it. You've been dreaming of him and him in your bed for the past few years. Maybe this time we can make everything a reality. He's always so careful not to hurt us. See, why don't we just ask him. I'm sure he'd be happy to comply. And since it's our first time, I'm sure he'd be extra kind and gentle. With a body like his, it'd be a shame to pass up the opportunity."
"Drunkard, you're shameless," sober me groaned.
"Better shameless than regretful."
"No way," I snapped at drunk me. "We are not going anywhere near that kind of thing. Do you want to get pregnant?"
"I don't know," drunk me leaned down to lick and suck on one of the man's nipples, playing with it with the tip of the tongue. "I wouldn't mind bearing the child of such a hottie. Even his voice makes me feel like I'll get pregnant, just by listening to him talk."
"Shameless," cried the sober me, easily becoming overpowered when drunk me took the tumbler on the table and drained the cup before sober me could react.
"Now," drunk me laughed triumphantly, "I have control. What do you think, handsome?" drunk me kissed the nipple and moved onto the other one, making the man shudder and shiver. He groaned and looked up at the ceiling. "Do you prefer the drunk me or the sober me?"
"I like both," the man groaned and lifted my chin to kiss me. It was a pity that due to being drunk, my vision had become blurry and I couldn't see his face clearly. "Both are equally cute. Little girl, do you know what you are doing?"
"No," drunk me smiled brightly and chased after his retreating lips, "but I'm sure you'll teach me."
"I sure will," the man laughed and cuddled me a little tighter, caressing and kissing me on the lips again. "Little girl, I didn't know you have a personality disorder."
"Neither did I," drunk me laughed, "but you learn something new everyday. Mister, when do I get to see your face? You're all blurry and I can't see you properly. You must be super handsome and hot. Your body is great. Your face has to be too."
"Yeah," the man chuckled. "I'm the most handsome there is out there. Both sides of my face are almost symmetrical."
"They are? Amazing," drunk me was irrationally impressed. Sober me not so much. Unfortunately, sober me had been suppressed by drunk me because of all the alcohol in the bloodstream. "Let me get a closer look."
"No. No looking," my eyes were covered by the man the moment I tried to peer at him for a closer look. Instead, he kissed drunk me silly, until she was reeling from more than just alcohol in the bloodstream. "If you get a good look at my face, I will never let you go. I'll be taking you away with me."
"I wouldn't mind that," drunk me said but her muscles were all so uncoordinated that it came out and incoherent mumbled. Her hands wrapped around the man's neck and kissed him back.
"Do you understand what you're getting into and asking me for?" the man asked me. "Let me talk to the sober you. You have to give me clear headed consent. That way you can't accuse me of not being a gentleman in the future."
"No," drunk me put a hand to the man's cheek and forced him to turn his head. "Sober me gets to be in control all the time. She never lets me out to play except for by accident. I want to play. I won't let sober me out."
"Little drunkard," the man kissed me and then deepened the kiss, entangling his tongue with mine until both my lips and tongue were all numb. "Let me talk to the sober you. Otherwise I refuse to do any more than this to you. Don't you know you're playing with fire like this?"
Drunk me unzipped his trousers and touched him, playing with him through his white underpants. The man gasped and caught my hands.
"Drunkard, let me talk to Sober."
"No!"
"Then I'll have to punish you," the man said in a hoarse, gravelly voice.
"Oh, yes, Daddy, please!" shouted drunk me in excitement, bouncing up and down and making the man groan.
The world spun and suddenly I was being pinned down onto the couch. My top was gone, my bra was gone and there was a tongue and teeth torturing the nipple on one breast, making drunk me shout in pain, fear and excitement. Drunk me boldly squashed the man's face into her breasts and then pulled his face up so that she could kiss him again.
The man shuddered and before she knew it, she was bare to the cool air. A calloused hand down there was cupping her, thumb flicking at something that made her flinch repetitively as if it were an electric switch.
Drunk me, the stupid idiot, lifted her hips, grinding them against the man's hand.
"Little girl, you're really very different when you're drunk. I like it."
"Really?" drunk me asked, giddy with excitement.
"But let me talk to the sober you for a few seconds first. You need to be sure you know what you're getting yourself into. You're so innocent and pure, I'm a bit hesitant to ruin you so quickly."
"Don't worry," drunk, idiotic me blurted out. "We have a whole week."
"A whole week?"
"I only have to go back to work next Thursday. We have a whole week to get to know each other and for you to train me into your little slave. Master, love me gentle. Love me hard. Make me fall for you."
"Oh, my," said the man, breathing hard. "Little girl, you are really trying to make this difficult for me, aren't you? Do you know what an invitation like that does to a man?"
"Anyway, Sober can't interrupt or get in the way at the moment," drunk me giggled. "As long as I'm in control, I can do whatever I like and damn the consequences."
"I still want to talk to the sober you. Look, I'll mix you another drink. If the sober you can't be suppressed, I'll just have you drink a little more. Ok?"
Drunk me kissed the man hard and then gave his balls a firm squeeze, making him take a sharp intake of breath.
"Alright, handsome. I'll be waiting."
I shook my head with dizziness and rubbed my face. Gentle lips caught mine, going from pleasurable tender kisses to deep and passionate ones making me yelp with surprise and then more muddled, with pain.
"Little girl, are you awake? Are you sober?"
"For the moment," I muttered gasping when he released me. "What was that?"
"The drunk you wants to get laid. What do you want?"
"What? No way!" I exclaimed, struggling and wriggling to escape his grasp.
"Want to stir me up and then run away? Fat chance," the man said sternly, pressing me down and parting my legs. He put my legs on his shoulders and rubbed himself up against me, taking off his trousers. I could feel his heat and firmness, all ready to go. "Little girl, you have to be responsible for what you start."
"I didn't start anything," I protested. "That was the drunk me."
"Drunk you and sober you are all still part of the same person," the man told me with a scary glint in his eyes. "They're both you."
"No way. That drunkard is definitely not me," I rejected, with my hands on his chest, trying to push him away. "I don't want any part in this. Get off me."
"No."
"Don't. Please don't," I pleaded, tears and snot springing out, while my heart went into overdrive, guts knotting themselves up into a ball. "I'm scared. I'm really scared."
"Then we will wait until you want me. When your main personality wants me. Until then, I have to punish you for making me hard and refusing to take responsibility. Let's see how you like it if I frustrated you too. Let me teach you how your body would like to be pleasured."