*The Hangover Cure

Dali Women
“Two Women Running on the Beach” by Pablo Picasso

She thought that the only thing worse than waking up with a hangover was waking up with a hangover next to some guy that looked way better drunk. But this wasn’t a guy. It was a girl. And a pretty good looking one.

Shana had no clue how she got into this predicament. So she lay there and stared at the naked brunette in her bed, watching her chest rise and fall and trying to figure out what to do next.

Her bedmate’s eyes fluttered open and a slow smile crossed her face. “Heeeyyy, Girl. Got a headache? You were a hoot.”

Shana smiled back. “Hi. I have vague memories. I guess I got pretty wasted. Thanks for bringing me home.”

“Yea, you were definitely living in the moment. How much do you remember?”

“We were at the club, dancing with a group. Then that Katy Perry song about kissing a girl and liking it came on. And I think I might have stuck my tongue down your throat. I’ve never done that before.”

The brunette laughed, sitting up and stretching. “Yep. Three shots later I poured us both into an Uber and here we are.”

Shana sat up, pulling the sheets to cover her bare breasts. “Um. I really don’t remember anything else. And, um, I’m not a lesbian. I don’t know what came over me. I don’t even know your name.”

“I’m Beth. I’m not a lesbian, either. I’m pansexual. And don’t worry. Nothing happened. We barely got through the door when you barfed all over the place. I put you in the shower, stripped us both down and we went to sleep.”

Shana fell back onto the pillows. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry. Wait. Pansexual? What’s that?”

“Basically, I identify as a woman and I’m attracted to both males and females, depending on how the person affects me. I’m not much into labels. I just am me,” Beth answered. “I like you. At least drunk.”

Shana sighed. “I’m a hot mess. I haven’t been in a relationship for over a year. Frankly, I’m sick and tired of the whole dating scene. Talk about labels. Just because I’m blonde with big tits doesn’t mean I want to suck or fuck every guy that looks at me. Whatever happened to romance?”

Beth reached out her index finger and slowly traced a line from Shana’s shoulder, down her arm to her palm, making her skin tingle. Shana gave an involuntary shiver but didn’t push Beth away. Instead she rolled onto her side so the women were face to face.

“I did like it. Kissing a girl. Does that make me pansexual?” Shana asked Beth.

“It makes you, you. It might be a onetime thing or a new chapter. It’s up to you to figure out.”

Shana looked into Beth’s eyes. She took her finger and slowly traced a line from Beth’s collar bone to the crease between her breasts.

“Let’s see if we can cure this hangover.”

Written for the To Live & Write in Alameda June 2019 “Flash Lit” Challenge #6. We had three days to write a poem or short story (of 500 words or less) or create a piece of art to the theme “The Hangover Cure” and post the link in our group. 

 

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