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Time to Kill The Mosquitoes

I was being humped by on orgy of mosquitoes. Next to me, the man snored with his elbow comfortably stuck in my forehead. Above me, the summer air hung from the ceiling like invisible stalactites. Everything seemed impossible and smelled as such. So I grabbed myself out of bed and I scrapped down the sand between my toes. Something still felt annoying so I licked the man’ s ear whispering with my warm breath  ‘ Come on, kitten, wake up, the sun wants to meet you, the beach needs to hug you, I need to kiss you, let’ s be romantic and one with nature’.  I whisper and hiss and the man, my kitten, growls like a bear. I tend to lose patience with animals so I shake him a few times, slam the beach carpet on him and light a cigarette on my way out in the hotel’ s garden.

As I am smoking under the grape leaves I get the sudden feeling that a rolling pin flattens my mind. I grab his hand, put an end to the head petting he was performing scrupulously, and prepare myself by visualizing the two of us kissing like there is no tomorrow on the sand, facing the sea. Holding hands and clip-clopping our flip-flops, we shove out for the mexican straw umbrellas spread all over the beach. With every step we count another minute gone by until the sunrise and another bacchanalian lady throwing up with a half empty bottle in one hand and a cigarette in the other. We decide to kiss once we reach ten, so we can incorporate ourselves in the scenery. It is debauchery at its peak, screams and white wet tank top girls thrown in the sea, adorable drunkards wrapped in sleeping bags like babies, giggles, dances, breast caressing. The sun gets up from the horizon and yawns some stinking U.V ‘s . The beach raves, all the clams hurray, it was a good night, many copulations, there are naked tits everywhere, nipples, hairy fingers, mini skirts and at our left, a vomit.

‘Kitten’, I say chewing that solid nasty morning taste in my mouth, ‘some juice please’. My lips purse because it is a lemon juice but when I see the love and bleariness in his eyes they stretch into a large smile. ‘ So, kitten, can you see the love that surrounds us? ’ I say and he says ’ Kittten, the love is between us, too.’  Yes, I am his kitten,  and I have to meow when he kisses me and I also have to check around and see if someone admires us and our bursting love, I must make sure we are part of this alcohol and coitus-interruptus reeking scenery.

‘ Come on, let’s go back, kitten, we have seen too much love, and the sunrise, and we kissed, let’s go now and kill those mosquitoes so I can sleep until the time will come.’ We start swaying our hands again, and clip-clopping our flip-flops, we were true lovers that kissed on the beach, we played our parts and all that was left were those mosquitoes. I kiss my kitten once again and ask him to kill them. I watch him trying to catch the insects and when I hear  the first mosquito squealing in death pain I light up a cigarette and leave. The time has come and it is enough of it to let me reach the driveway until my kitten finishes killing the last mosquitoes.

About drunkstoryteller

Story teller, beer lover and headbanger master

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