Budweiser

 

Spring Break Haze

The Florida sun blazed down on the bustling sidewalk outside the Rusty Anchor, a dive bar pulsing with spring break energy. Gabby, all of eighteen, stood swaying in front of you, her hands planted defiantly on her hips. Her loose Budweiser crop top clung to her curves, the fabric barely containing her full, braless chest. The afternoon light caught the lighter streaks in her medium-brown hair, blonde highlights glinting as she tossed her head back with a tipsy laugh. Her flushed cheeks and glassy eyes betrayed just how far gone she was, though she’d never admit it.

“I’m nod zzzrunk,” she slurred, her sunny smile wide and unconvincing as she teetered on her long legs, light blue spandex shorts hugging her big, toned butt and narrow waist.

“No?” you teased, stepping closer, steadying her with a gentle hand on her elbow as she wobbled.

“Nooo,” she drawled, pointing a wobbly finger at her crop top. “I’m juzz fulla Budweiser.” Her giggle was infectious, her pretty face glowing with drunken mischief.

You chuckled as she stumbled forward, catching herself on your arm. “Room for some more?”

“Allw’ys,” she declared, her voice thick with bravado. “I c’n hold my beeer.” She spun toward the bar’s open door, nearly tripping over her own feet, her toned stomach flexing as she regained her balance and staggered inside.

The Rusty Anchor was a haze of neon lights and sticky floors, the air thick with salt, sweat, and cheap beer. Gabby beelined for the bar, her hips swaying exaggeratedly, drawing eyes from every corner of the room. She leaned forward, elbows on the counter, her crop top riding up to expose more of her smooth, sun-kissed skin. The bartender, a grizzled guy with a smirk, slid another Budweiser her way without a word. She grabbed it, turning to you with a triumphant grin, her glassy eyes sparkling.

“To spring break!” she toasted, raising the bottle high before taking a long, sloppy swig. Beer dribbled down her chin, catching on the edge of her crop top, and she laughed, wiping it away with the back of her hand. Her movements were loose, uninhibited, her body practically vibrating with intoxicated energy.

You leaned in, your voice low, teasing. “You sure you’re not drunk, Gab?”

She pouted, stepping closer, her big boobs brushing against your chest as she tilted her head up to meet your gaze. “I’m fine,” she insisted, her breath hot and sweet with beer. Her hands found your shoulders, fingers digging in as she swayed, her body pressing closer. The heat of her skin through the thin spandex shorts was electric, her narrow waist curving under your hands as you steadied her.

“Fine, huh?” you murmured, your lips brushing her ear. Her shiver was immediate, a soft gasp escaping her as she leaned into you, her long legs tangling slightly as she struggled to stay upright.

“Mmmhm,” she purred, her voice dropping to a sultry slur. She tilted her head, her lips grazing your jaw, leaving a trail of warmth that sent a jolt through you. “Wanna dance?”

The bar’s jukebox kicked into a sultry, bass-heavy beat, and Gabby didn’t wait for an answer. She pulled you toward the crowded dance floor, her hips already moving, her crop top shifting to reveal flashes of her toned stomach. Her big butt swayed in those tight spandex shorts, each step a mix of drunken stumble and deliberate seduction. She spun around, her hands roaming your chest, her glassy eyes locked on yours as she pressed herself flush against you.

Her body moved with reckless abandon, grinding against you, her breath hitching as your hands slid down her waist, fingers grazing the bare skin above her shorts. “See?” she slurred, her lips brushing your neck. “Told ya I c’n handle it.”

But her legs betrayed her, buckling slightly, and you caught her, pulling her close. Her laughter was warm against your skin, her big boobs pressed tight against you as she clung to your shoulders. “Okay, maybe I’m a liiiittle drunk,” she admitted, her sunny smile turning wicked. She leaned up, her lips finding yours in a messy, hungry kiss, tasting of Budweiser and raw desire.

The bar faded away, the noise and heat blurring into the background as Gabby’s hands roamed, her body swaying against yours. Her spandex shorts rode up slightly, your fingers brushing the soft curve of her thigh as she deepened the kiss, her tongue teasing yours with drunken boldness. Her glassy eyes fluttered half-closed, her flushed cheeks glowing under the neon lights.

“Take me somewhere,” she whispered, her voice a slurred plea, her hands tugging at your shirt. “Somewhere… quieter.”

You smirked, your hands firm on her waist as you guided her stumbling steps toward the door. The afternoon sun hit you both as you stepped outside, Gabby giggling and leaning into you, her body warm and pliant. Spring break was just getting started, and Gabby, wasted and wild, was all yours.