Mixed Drinks, Pinch My Cherries

“I, oh, oh fuck yes!” Edwin grunted hoarsely as more than half of his cock was inside of her incredible tightness.

May shuddered and whimpered, no longer fighting or struggling. She slumped forward, head on the cheap mattress as only her knees and Edwin’s hands supported her.

Edwin pounded the tight, struggling hole for several hard thrusts. May just let out the occasional ‘oomph’ as he thrust into her.

“Oh dear God yes, oh Jesus yes,” Edwin bellowed and pumped a dribble of semen into her guts.

Edwin wheezed for several long moments, trying to catch his breath. Finally, he pulled his wilted cock from her ravaged hole.

“Fuck, that, that was good, that was great,” Edwin enthused as he knee-walked off of the bed.

May did not answer when Edwin asked if she was staying the night. She did not struggle when he put her underneath the comforter, thin blanket and flat sheet.

Sometime in the middle of the night, Edwin did not bother checking the clock, he woke with an erection. May grumbled somewhat but spread her legs and allowed him to fuck her. Edwin did not know, nor care if she achieved orgasm during their frenzied coupling. He ejaculated then rolled over and fell asleep again.

In the morning, May Kim slept while Edwin showered, shaved, then dressed in his last clean suit and shirt. Edwin put the unopened bottles of Everclear and Mark’s Cherry and Mark’s Cinnamon Liqueurs into his suitcase. There was only two or three inches of Everclear and Cherry and Cinnamon Liqueurs in the other bottles so, with a shrug, Edwin left those bottles and May’s bottle of wine on the low dresser.

The television continued to show lesbian pornography; during the night, Edwin had muted the television. Apparently, when the ‘Mute’ button was pushed, it activated closed-captioning. Reading the sporadic dialogue was actually kind of amusing.

With one last look at the girl, Edwin let himself out of the room. In the lobby, he helped himself to a sweet roll and a cup of coffee. Then, checking his cell phone, Edwin left the lobby, hoping to make a sale today.

May came to in the strange bed and looked around. The television showed two blonde women pleasuring a Latina; one blonde was licking the hairless pussy of the Latina while the other blonde sucked on the Latina’s incredibly large breasts.

May’s pussy and anus were sore. There was a sticky crust of semen matted in her pubic hair and on the insides of her thighs. Wiggling out of the bed, May went into the bathroom and relieved herself. Then she got into the shower and scrubbed herself clean.

Looking around, flimsy towel wrapped around her body, May saw that Edwin’s suitcase was gone. She saw her bottle of wine and the small amount of hard liquor sitting on the dresser, but the unopened bottles were not there.

May hefted the three bottles and, with a shrug, poured the cherry and cinnamon liqueurs into the bottle of Everclear. Shaking well, May then guzzled the harsh alcohol. She shuddered and fought against the roiling in her stomach. After her second gulp of the liquor, May fell asleep again.

Housekeeping roused her and May squealed. The maid spoke in rapid-fire Spanish and May groggily answered in Spanish. The maid grudgingly agreed to give May five minutes to vacate the room.

May dressed and made sure to put the bottles of wine and Everclear into the plastic bags. Then without another word, May left the room.

Outside, a cool breeze blew, causing May to shiver. She got her bearings and walked to the home she shared with her brother and his wife. In her room, she secreted her bottle of wine, but finished the bottle of Everclear.

“Aw, Jesus fuck!” May screamed, seeing that it was eleven thirteen.

She pulled her cell phone out of her purse and saw that the battery was dead. Plugging the phone into the charger, May took the last sips of her bottle then put the bottle into the kitchen garbage can, pushing it to the bottom. She then tied off the bag and brought the bag to the large garbage can inside of the garage.

Her cell had several voice mails and text messages from Kim Sei Tin, her brother. Those were deleted without reading or listening to them. The voice mail from Jamie Tismann, her court-appointed lawyer demanded to know where she was; Angela Garcia, May’s probation officer called to let Jamie know May had not shown up for her scheduled community service. The other voice mail was from Angela Garcia.

“Well, I’m fucked now,” May said.

She left a voice mail with Jamie’s receptionist; supposedly Ms. Tismann was with a client. May’s hands shook horribly as she returned Angela Garcia’s message.

“Don’t lie to me. Don’t tell me you’re sick, or had a flat tire or some other bullshit,” Angela snapped.

“Know what? I, I was drunk, all right?” May sobbed out. “Okay? Some guy bought me some wine and I got drunk and didn’t wake up until ‘bout an hour ago and my phone was dead and…”

“Ms. Kim, I, I have no choice but to let the court know you failed to meet your obligations,” Ms. Garcia said, sounding almost sympathetic.

“I, yeah,” May said, defeated.

Ending the phone call, May again called Ms. Tismann’s office and let Jamie Tismann’s receptionist know what Angela Garcia had said. The stone faced woman curtly concluded the phone call.

May took another shower, then lay down on her bed and drank the entire bottle of wine. She passed out, then came to when there was a hard pounding on the door.

“Give me a minute! Shit, give me a fucking minute, ass hole,” May screamed out, groggy from the wine.

“Kim Yang May?” a Myndee Police Officer demanded when May answered the door.

“Yeah, or May Kim,” May agreed.

“Turn around; put your hands behind your back,” the unsmiling man ordered.

“Wait one minute, all right? Let me get some shoes on,” May said, leaving the man on the front porch.

May sent a message to her brother, letting him know she’d failed to uphold the conditions of her probation and was being arrested. Then she put on her tennis shoes and stepped out of the home.

“Kim Yang May, you have the right to remain silent…” the arresting officer intoned.

“This really necessary? I weigh, what? Ninety pounds? You really think you need to handcuff me?” May interrupted.

She endured the photographing, the fingerprinting, and the being shoved into a cell with seven other women. She endured a long afternoon of boredom, a meal of stale bread, salami and American cheese, some stale potato chips and a nasty looking apple. Then she endured a long night where the need for a drink had her nerves writhing.

Her hands shook horribly during the breakfast and she threw up that meal before they could be shackled and led off to the waiting van. They did not give her any time to clean up, just hustled her into the van. At the Clarkston County courthouse, May Kim sat and waited. And sat and waited.

“You know, how you feel right now?” Angela Garcia said, suddenly appearing in front of May. “You don’t ever have to feel like this ever again.”

“What?” May asked.

“Ms. Kim, you, do you want help?” Angela asked.

“She’s offering you a way out of doing eighteen months in lock up,” Jamie Tismann snapped, stepping up next to Angela.

“Who do I have to kill?” May attempted some levity.

“Right attitude, wrong answer,” Angela smirked.

May listened as Angela talked about sending May to a treatment center to address May’s alcoholism.

“I, I’m not an alcoholic,” May denied quickly.

“Really? Getting drunk, missing appointments, picking up random guys just because they buy you wine? That sounds like normal behavior to you?” Angela asked.

“I, I’m not, I’m not a…” May sniffled.

“Yes or no, Ms. Kim?” Jamie snapped, impatient. “If the answer’s no, then I can go on back to my office.”

“I, what, what do I have to do?” May asked, terrified of the idea of going to treatment.

Clarkston County Chemical Dependency Unit looked like an office building among other office buildings. May sat, shaking horribly from alcohol withdrawal while Angela and she filled out paperwork with the assistance of a smiling woman. May burst into sobs when confronted with the reality; she was being asked to give up the one thing that gave her any comfort. These people, her probation officer, her lawyer, they all wanted her to give up drinking.

Four days into her mandated twenty eight stay at CCCDU, Kim Sei Tin and Paula Kim came to bring her a few changes of clothing. Kim Sei Tin was his usual reserved persona, but Paula gently hugged May and whispered that this was the first time in months Kim Sei Tin had been able to sleep.

“Knowing that you’re safe? It, it’s priceless,” Paula whispered, giving May a sisterly kiss on her cheek. “Please, please do good, please.”

“And, how did that make you feel?” the counselor asked of May at Group Session that night.

“Makes me feel like this big piece of shit,” May admitted. “I mean, fuck, I always knew I’m just a burden; even my dad didn’t want me.”

But on Family Day, Paula sat, smiling happily as May’s counselor spoke of the wonderful progress May was making. Paula clutched May’s hand tightly as May stumbled, started, faltered, then burst into tears.

“Oh no! Oh, May, oh don’t!” Paula said, hugging the girl tightly. “No, no, don’t cry. We, we’re so proud of you.”

“How can you be proud of me? I’m just a God damned failure?” May screamed.

“Our father, Kim So Yang was a God damned drunk,” Kim Sei Tin said quietly. “He knew he was a God damned drunk and did nothing about it. YOU? You are doing something about it.”

Again, in Group Session that night, the counselor asked May how the visit had gone, how did she feel? May couldn’t speak; she was sobbing so hard she hyperventilated.

In the fifteen person van that belonged to the CCCDU, the counselor talked to them about the AA Meeting they were going to. He told them they were not going to the meeting to talk about their marriage, their job situation, their legal troubles. They were going there to talk about their alcoholism, their drug addiction.

“If you have nothing to say? Admit it and zip it. Oh, and believe it or not? You really don’t have anything to say. Most of these people have five, ten, fifteen years of sobriety. Do you really think that you, at what? Two weeks without drinking or getting high got something to say that they really need to hear?” the man asked them. “So, if someone says, ‘hey, you, in the tangerine shirt; you want to say anything?’ you say your name, that you’re an alcoholic and drug addict and tell them how many days you’ve been clean and sober, then shut up.”

At the Chapel AA Meeting, the group from CCCDU moved to sit near the rear of the large room. The counselor instead ordered them to sit at the large table that comprised the bulk of the room.

A smiling older man asked May Kim to read the AA Preamble. She studied and studied the laminated piece of paper before the meeting, terrified of making a mistake.

“Wow, um, you said your name is May?” the chairperson chuckled after May read the short paragraph out loud. “May, I don’t believe I’ve ever heard anyone read that in one single breath before.”

“Don’t,” the counselor said before May could bolt out of the room. “Sweetie, he was just teasing you. You did fine. You did just fine.”

The topic was Acceptance’ and May listened intently as each person shared his or her experience. There was a stunning blonde woman that looked as terrified as May felt but she never spoke. During the moments of silence, May glanced at the beautiful woman.

May looked up when the chairperson asked ‘our Preamble star’ to share. She looked at the counselor, then at the smiling chairperson. He nodded his head when she pointed at herself.

“My, uh, hi, my name is May and uh, I, I’m an alcoholic,” May stammered. “I, I’m an alcoholic. I, oh God, I, I’m an alcoholic. I’m a God damned alcoholic.”

May lay her head on the table and burst into helpless sobs. After a long moment, the chairperson suggested they move on to handing out the chips. He walked away as a young lady skipped up to the podium.

“Sweetheart, I sat right where you’re sitting, and felt just like you’re feeling,” the chairperson said, patting May’s back and handing her his handkerchief. “The good news is? It does get better.”

“And does anyone maybe have, o, I don’t know, thirty one year’s today?” the young woman asked, holding up a brass medallion.

“Oops that’s my cue,” the old man smiled at the sniffling girl and walked up to the podium as the room erupted in applause.

“My name is Tom and I’m a God damned alcoholic,” Tom said. “And when I see people like Preamble May come in, it just makes me that much more grateful that I’m an alcoholic.”

On the van ride back to CCCDU, the other patients of the chemical dependency unit teased May, calling her Preamble May. Inside of the large conference room, the patients sat and talked about what they’d gotten out of the meeting.

“I, oh no! I, we have to go back!” May squealed. “I, I still got Mister Tom’s handkerchief!”

“We’ll see him at other meetings, I’m sure of it,” the counselor chuckled. “Just hang onto it, okay?”

A few days before her discharge, the doctor on staff pulled May out of a group session and informed her that she was pregnant. May sat, stunned as the man continued to talk.

“You’re still in your first trimester…” May heard.

“Twenty seven days,” May interrupted. “I, it was the day before I was admitted to treatment.”

Returning to the Chapel AA Meeting, May approached the softly smiling man and offered him his handkerchief. He gently curled her hand around the scrap of cloth.

“Hang onto it, Sweetie,” he said. “You’ll probably need it again.”

She happily agreed to read the Preamble and took a seat at the table. This time, she paused at the punctuation marks, and smiled proudly when she finished.

“Thank you, Preamble May. And could we hear ‘How It Works’ now?” Tom smiled.

“The topic is gratitude,” Tom said. “As most of you know, the cancer has come back. I’m going into treatment next week but honestly? The doctors are telling me my chances are fat, slim, and none. Less than ten percent ever survive a return of this. But, seriously, all I can think of is how grateful I am that God has given me two years of remission, two years to be with my granddaughter. If I had said, ‘oh, what’s the use?’ And drank again? I wouldn’t have been able to be with Lilly. Lilly’s never seen Pop-Pop drunk and I’m grateful for that.”

May sat and listened as others talked about gratitude. Seeing the calm acceptance on Tom’s face made her put her hand over her belly. Suddenly, being pregnant wasn’t the worst thing that could have ever happened to her.

After they said the ‘Our Father’ together, May turned and was face to face with the beautiful blonde she’d seen at the previous meeting.

“My name is Mindy, and I’m a God damned alcoholic,” the blonde murmured. “I, uh, I was here when you uh, you broke down and cried.”

“Oh God,” May said, highly embarrassed over her emotional outburst.

“And the next night? I went and picked up a Desire chip,” Mindy said, showing May the plastic disk. “I picked it up because of you. And I told them, I told them I’m a God damned alcoholic.”

Before May could say anything, Mindy scampered out of the room. Clumps of people stood around, laughing, chattering, or silently standing and looking around with nervousness or with hostility.

“Mister Tom? I, I need a sponsor; I’m graduating from Clarkston CDU but they won’t let me graduate until I get a sponsor,” May told the smiling man.

“Well, Sweetie, as much as I’d like to, I think you need to get a woman, okay?” Tom said gently.

“Oh. But, but, they told me to get someone who has what I want, and that’s you,” May said.

“May, in thirty one years of being sober, that is the nicest, kindest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” the man said, hugging the small woman. “But, I bet Peggy over here, I bet you find, she’s got a lot to offer.”

“I’m going be Preamble May’s sponsor? Awe. Some!” Peggy smiled and gave May her phone number. “Call me every day. Even if you ain’t got shit to say, call me. Tell me you ain’t got shit to say.”

“I uh,” May looked around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. “I, Miss Peggy, what if I’m gay?”

“So?” Peggy smiled. “If you are, you are.”

“And uh, I might, no, I am pregnant,” May prodded.

“Okay. I’ve been pregnant too,” Peggy said.

“And I, I’m Korean,” May continued.

“May, are you alcoholic?” Peggy asked, resting her hand on May’s shoulder. “You alcoholic? All that other shit don’t mean nothing to me.”

<<.>> <<.>> <<.>>

“My name is second choice Peggy and I’m an alcoholic,” Petty smiled widely.

“Hi Peggy,” the room said.

“I say I’m second choice, because I was Preamble May’s second choice. Her first choice was Tom Stanwick; yes, we can use his last name; he died sober,” Peggy smiled, then launched into a glowing account of the past year, of May’s hard work.

“Hi, I’m May and I’m an alcoholic,” May beamed as she accepted her one year chip.

“Hi May,” the room said.

“They call me ‘Preamble May’ because, my first meeting? Mister Tom asked me to read the Preamble, and after I read it, he said he’d never heard anyone read it in just one breath,” May smiled, wiping at her tears. “He called me Preamble May and it just kind of stuck. And I love the preamble; I love the meetings, I love being sober.”

Afterward, Kim Sei Tin relinquished his hold on Tommie May, his niece to Mindy. Paula hugged May again and again, telling the nineteen year old woman how proud she was of her. Kim Sei Tin waited his turn.

“I am very, very proud of you, I am proud to be your big brother,” Kim Sei Tin said quietly and hugged his sister.

“Want some cake? It’s a caramel and sea salt cake,” May invited. “Miss Peggy showed me how to make it.”

“And next week’s my birthday,” Mindy Welchen told Paula. “But I got to wait ‘til the last Friday to pick up my chip.

“We’ll be here,” Paula promised.

As Mindy and May drove to their rented trailer, Edwin Dillard stood in line at the Pak N’ Sak behind a cute, chubby brunette. The girl wore yoga pants, despite the chill in the air. Through the filmy material, Edwin could just make out a dark colored thong bisecting the young lady’s buttocks. In her arms, the girl cradled a bottle of cheap wine.

His sales were dismal; his boss had let him know, another week of sales in the low tens, low hundreds and he would have no choice but to hand Edwin his walking papers. Edwin’s sales were not even covering Edwin’s expenditures.

Overhead, a radio station played some overly processed music with some growling vocals. Edwin could remember when most vocalists could sing notes that only dogs could hear. Nowadays, they all sounded so angry, so bitter, and growling out the words did not help soften the image.

“Marlene, come on; you ain’t old enough buy that,” the older woman behind the counter snapped.

“Aw, come on, Miss Patty, I be twenty one in just a couple of days,” the chubby girl whined.

“Marlene, must think I’m stupid; you just made nineteen other day,” Miss Patty said.

“Stick around,” Edwin hissed as the tearful Marlene turned to leave the store.

Tomorrow, tomorrow, Edwin would have to try a little harder, be a little more aggressive, make some sales. But tonight, he would get good and drunk. And if he could get a cute little chubby nineteen year old girl good and drunk, get to pound that sweet, chunky ass…

“Yes sir,” Patty said as Edwin put his bottle of Everclear, his bottle of Mark’s Cherry Liqueur and his bottle of Mark’s Cinnamon Liqueur onto the counter.

The End.

.*.

**Author’s Notes: I write these stories for my pleasure; I post them here for your enjoyment. I thank you sincerely for reading my stories.