Thanksgiving Hangover

As Ben slowly came to consciousness he could only remember two things about yesterday. It was Thanksgiving and he drank too much. In reality the turkey grease in his beard reminded him of the former and the feeling of dirty death in his body reminded him of the latter.

Throwing up was inevitable, but he was putting it off. He hated throwing up. He couldn´t shake a certain feeling of guilt despite not recalling anything from the previous day. He went to check his phone for clues. The battery was dead. “Lucky phone” he thought. “I wish my battery would just run out one day”

Self-loathing was overtaking Ben. This happened frequently during Ben´s hangovers and hangovers such as this one were happening more frequently as of late. His embarrassment was augmented knowing his whole family bared witness to whatever transpired yesterday. Most had traveled from out of state to see what a sad sack Ben has become.

After a few hours of fighting it, Ben gave into the urge to purge. This made him feel slightly better. He realized he´d better face the family and get it over with. Every hour that passed, the feeling of shame and embarrassment grew. He slipped into some jeans and brushed the taste of vomit out of his mouth.

He embarked on what felt like an interminable trek down the stairs. “Oh, great” he thought. “They´re all there”

He peeked around the final banister and timidly said “Hi.”

“There he is!” a beaming aunt cried, “Our hero!”

“Hey sport! You rest up well after that adventure? You deserve it” an uncle chimed in.

Ben´s head was spinning. What are they talking about? Another aunt kissed him on the cheek as she handed him a cup of coffee. “Special cup for the hero of Thanksgiving!” she said, “Ummmm, someone still smells a little of yesterday´s indulgences” she chided, “Heck, you deserved it!”

Another aunt approached, “Ben, your clothes from yesterday are in the dryer, I even put an extra dryer sheet in there for you”

“Why?” Ben asked, perplexed.

“Don´t be silly” she responded.

“No, really, what happened?” Ben insisted as he put his hand to his forehead.

An uncle started in from the other side of the room “Oh, Ben, you really don´t remember, do you?”

“Not really, sorry” he answered.

“That´s okay! Hell, I was young once, I think I forgot a few nights myself” he laughed “Your little cousin Andy was a playin’ and a slidin’on the ice on the pool; ice cracked and he fell right in. Don´t know why you were there…

Ben knew, he was smoking a bowl at the side of the house.

“…but thank God you were. You jumped right in, not thinking for a second about yourself and snatched little Andy right out of the water, from under the ice, with the quickness. You 100% saved his life”

“Three cheers for Ben!” an uncle cried.

“Hip, hip, hooray!!!” they repeated.

Ben stood there bewildered, but feeling a little better.

 

 

The Older Woman

There she lay, glistening in a sensual sizzle. The straps of her bikini undone, dangling from the sides of her folding chair tempting him in a way that brought physical pain to his loins.

He watched her from the kitchen window. She was getting her afternoon sun on her well worked body. His teenage erection was completely unhidden in his knee length basketball shorts, sans underwear. The feeling of the silky fabric rubbing on him every time he moved his hips made it difficult for him to stand still. He looked like a novice hula dancer swaying his hips so erratically.

Her body was perfect and not just for a woman of her age, though she wore her 50 years fabulously, but for a woman of any age. A rare mix of great genetics and vanity, she took very good care of herself. She had no idea that she had an audience at the moment.

His vision was going in and out of blurry spells, the fire so stoked in his loins. He couldn´t take it. He needed release. He promised himself he wouldn´t do this anymore. He had asked his pastor if this behavior was all right and as he expected, was told no. He prayed to make these feelings go away. But they didn´t. It did not help that prayer time was so close to same time where he was left alone with his thoughts in the dark. With no one around. No one watching.

He asked God to forgive him one more time as he reached for the cooking oil. He splashed a little in his palm. It was enough. In fact, it was unnecessary as there was enough Cowper’s fluid accumulated that it looked as though he had wet himself a little.

He reached into his shorts and almost instantly a wave of delicious shame pulsated through his body. He felt amazing and awful as his eyes fluttered and became difficult to keep open. He even uttered an audible ‘uh’. His knees went weak and then he felt panic. She was tying her bikini up. She was coming inside.

The orgasm hadn´t even fully finished and she was steps away from the back door. He didn´t know what to do so he and his handful of shame opened the door to the basement. He didn´t even think about turning on the light. He just stumbled down the stairs into the musty darkness.

“What do you want for lunch” called the voice of the once object of his deepest desire.

A shaky voice came from the darkness of the basement. “Nothing, Mom.”