by Billie Dale
When my cocoa is finished brewing, I add my daily two drops of the potion and a splash of Schnapps, grabbing some Twinkies I settle in on my bed and watch Ralphie shoot his eye out.
At five, my movie is interrupted by a video call from Ronnie.
“Merry Christmas, Ten,” she cheers, her smile lighting up my screen.
After four cups of peppermint-laced hot chocolate, my body is feeling tingles and warmth.
Her face is a little fuzzy on my screen.
“Merry Christmas, did you get anything good?” I slur.
“Why are you slurring your words, are you ok?” she asks moving closer to the screen.
“Yesh, I’m fiiiine, just having some Schnapps. Oh, that’s a fun word to say . . . Scccchhhhnaaaps,” I draw out.
“Are you drunk, Tensanne?”
“Yesh, I believe I am,” I lisp, slobbering down my chin.
“Do you want me to come back and sit with you?” she asks, concern filling her eyes.
“Nope,” I say popping the ‘p’, “I’m perfectly happy here wisch my good friend Schnaaaapps and Ralphie,” I say giving her what I think is a happy smile but my face is numb so I’m not sure.
“Promise me you will stay in the room. You’re underage and I don’t want to have to bail you out on Christmas,” she jokes but I know she’s serious.
“I promish, Imma not going anywhere,” I say giving her the okay sign with my fingers.
Oh look, fingers, I think, waving my hand slowly in front of my eyes, they’re so many of them.
“Tensanne,” she shouts, “Stop analyzing your fingers. Woo hoo, Ten? I’m here, on the screen,” she giggles, shaking her head.
Moving my head slowly back to the screen, she continues when she sees she has my attention.
“My dad got you a great gift,” she says excitedly, “And wait till you see what he got me,” she shrieks. “I will give it to you on New Years. Take care of yourself, Ten. Call me if you need anything and stay in the room,” she demands, emphasizing the last part shaking her finger at me.
“Otay,” I say making the ‘ok’ symbol with my fingers. Oh, fingers again.
“Merry Christmas, Ronnie.”
“Love you, Ten.”
“Loves yous too, Ron’s,” I babble disconnecting the call and clicking back to my movie.
By seven o’clock my hot chocolate is more alcohol than chocolate. In between movie showings, I go to make myself another drink. Dancing my way to the bottle, I frown when I notice that it’s almost empty.
“All I want for Christmas is some peppermint Schnapps.
Some peppermint Schnapps.
Some peppermint Schnapps, oh and Kohl.
All I want for Christmas is more Schnapps cause Schnapps is the funniest word to say.”
I sing, swaying my hips seductively.
Turning back to the bed, I jump when I see Kohl leaning against the door with his arms crossed over his chest, pushing his arm muscles out. One side of his mouth raised in a smirk.
Faded jeans rest low on his hips and a red t-shirt stretched tightly across his expansive chest with a sliver of tanned skin showing where it has ridden up from his crossed arms, I see a hint of his dark treasure trail leading into his jeans.
“Oh, holy peppermint hallucination of yummy,” I giggle. Setting my cup down, bouncing excitedly on my toes. Finally, my brain has created something useful and he seems so life like, I think with a little clap.
Schnapps is not only fun to say it provides great hallucinations.
“Why is your door unlocked, Ten?” he broods, his eyes raking over my body, my skin heating with every inch he scans.
“Merry Christmas to me,” I sing, dizzily “I get a Kohl mirage to fulfill my Christmas fantasy.”
Walking to him, sashaying my hips boldly, I trip falling into him. My hands crash into his solid pecks, the heat of his skin searing me through his shirt. Wow, he even feels real too, I think.
“You’re here alone? Are you drunk? Why is your door not locked?” he questions, bending to look me in the eye.
“No, no dreamy Kohl,” I argue shaking my head, slowly, back and forth. “That’s not what you’re supposed to say,” I state, pointing him in the chest.
“What am I supposed to say?” he chortles his body quaking with suppressed laughter.
“You’re supposed to say how much you want me and you’re supposed to be wrapped in a red bow and naked, and you’re making my Christmas wish come true,” I slur, sticking out my lower lip in a pout.
“You wish for me to be naked with a red bow?” he purrs, all humor leaving his voice, his eyes darkening.
Pushing up on my tip toes my lips whispering over his, displaying confidence only copious amounts of alcohol and an imaginary man can provide, “You’re every fantasy I have and the only gift I could ever want,” I whisper, flicking my tongue out to lick his succulent cupids bow, before crushing my lips to his.
All my inhibitions are gone. This is not a real Kohl, it’s a drunken fun ride and I will enjoy every second.
His arms drop from being crossed when I collide with him, his hands sliding around my hips to grip my ass, pulling me into his hard body drawing a moan from my lips. Those large hands that can palm a basketball can also cover the span of my cheeks.
If drinking brings these kinds of illusions, I need to do it more often.
His tongue runs the seam of my lips demanding access, his hands pull my ass, rubbing me into his hardening erection. Cinnamon explodes on my taste buds, taking over the peppermint from the alcohol, his tongue tangling with mine. My knees melt from under me, the only thing keeping me upright is his hands holding me. Lights explode behind my eyes. The blood soaring in my veins, singing his praise. His dick rubbing my panty clad clit with each grinding motion. Pretend Kohl is very responsive and very large.
I thank my imagination for being so generous with his dick size.
Grabbing his arms, without losing the connection to his lips, I swing us around to land on Ronnie’s bed. Taking advantage of everything the Schnapps has offered me; I move quickly, in fear he may disappear. Gasping as his weight hits me and his jean clad erection slams between my legs.
“Oh, God, yes. This is so amazing,” I breathe. Fighting nausea our fall created in my stomach. Closing my eyes to keep the room from spinning.
Pulling up off me, his breathing labored, he pushes my hair off my face, “Stop, we have to stop. I don’t want you like this, not when you don’t think it’s me.”
“Shh, imaginary Kohl. No talking. Don’t stop rubbing. Don’t stop kissing. Keep that grinding thing you’re doing. This is my fantasy and you’re not being a good erotic mirage,” I yawn, my eyes heavy and hard to keep open. I don’t want to sleep. I want to stay in this moment. I want to stay with my fake Kohl.
As my eyes closed, he whispers, “Merry Christmas. Sleep, my Tennie Girl. Sleep. I’ll be right here when you wake.” Smiling, I snuggle into his warm chest and the world goes dark.
* * *
Kohl
I couldn’t leave her alone on Christmas Day. I spent time with my family, opening presents and having dinner but my thoughts were consumed with the wonderful girl still on campus. Once everything is cleaned up, I explain to my parents how I have a good friend who is still on campus with no family to spend the holiday with and I would really like to return so she’s not alone.
My mom pats my back with a large knowing smile, “This friend is a girl?”
“Yes, but we’re only good friends. She’s smart and funny but she doesn’t have anyone and though I love being here with you, I need to see her.”
My dad asks, eyes twinkling like he knows my secret, “Why didn’t you invite her home with you, son? You know we would have loved to meet a new friend.” He knows me too well; he knows I could never be only friends with a girl.
“She’s too stubborn and didn’t want to burden anyone. Please, I have to see her,” I plead.
With a hug, my mom says, “You�
��re such a good boy. Go. Take my car and go see your friend.”
They don’t have to tell me twice. I grab her keys and bolt to the door, it’s a two-hour drive back to campus and I want to get back before Ten goes to bed.
Back on campus, I rush to my room first, grabbing her present before I go to her dorm. I want to surprise her. I’m glad her door is unlocked but angry she left it open when she is the only person left in the dorm. When I enter her room, she is singing some sort of Christmas song but has changed the words, some of her words are slurred and the room reeks of peppermint.
If I were a lesser man I would have taken advantage of the situation. Her inhibitions are down; she so tanked she won’t remember what happened but I care for her too much to take her this way. But that doesn’t mean I’m not enjoying watching her juicy ass shake in those little white panties.
One taste won’t hurt, I think when she flicks my top lip with the tip of her tongue. That’s it. I’m done. I’m going in and I don’t care if I ever come back out.
Peppermint and chocolate explode in my mouth, my tongue tangling with hers. My hands glide over the supple curve of her hips, gripping her ass, I groan when she grinds against my dick.
Her warmth spreads along every inch of my skin. Time stops my blood pounds in my ears and courses with violence through my veins, ending at my dick. She’s the beginning and the end—of what, I’m unsure; I have this feeling it will never be like this with anyone else.
I stay awake for hours after she drifts off, watching her sleep. Her face so youthful and full of peace. A smile crests her lips occasionally. Is she dreaming of me? The woman that I held in my arms tonight was so secure and forward. She knew what she wanted, had no fear of taking it. Her insecurities were gone, her guards down, she was open and brave, she was amazing. I wish she could be that way without the influence of alcohol. I wish she could see herself the way I see her.
Holding her tight to my side, still tasting her on my lips, I drift off hoping this is a turning point for us. Maybe she’s ready for what I feel, maybe she’s ready for more.
Chapter Fourteen
When trying to lose weight it’s not wise to sit and watch the Food Network. Even the grossest looking food will make you hungry.
—Tensanne’s inner thoughts
Tensanne
“OH, GOD. WHO shit in my mouth? Why is the room moving and why is there a marching band in my head?” I whine, prying my tongue from the roof of my mouth. My stomach decides to revolt in a tumultuous roil and grumble. I fly off the bed, rushing to the bathroom, barely making to the toilet when all last night’s fun comes back out as regret. My head pounding with each heave of my body. Flashes of the most vivid dream reveal themselves with each hurling stomach clinch. Kohl, his lips, his touch, his hardness resting so perfectly against me. Each image in fantastic technicolor. I can almost feel his warm lips pressed against mine. I reveal in the pictures that are playing like a dream formed memory when a cool washcloth is placed on my neck causing me to jump back away from the porcelain throne. Standing in the doorway, rumpled and wrinkled is Kohl, hair standing in disarray with a lazy sleepy smirk formed on his plump pink lips.
“Oh, God,” I groan, “Last night wasn’t a dream, was it?”
“You need greasy food and coffee to absorb some of that alcohol flooding your system,” he orders, dodging my question.
At the suggestion of food my stomach purges and bile rises. Crawling my way back to the toilet, I begin to dry heave. My throat is raw, the band playing Revelry in my brain marches on while I grab the toilet seat for leverage against my body expelling what isn’t there. Once the ravaging calms, I roll to my side resting my cheek on the cool tile of the bathroom floor, the chill cooling my heated flesh. Squinting my eyes at the door, Kohl is gone. Maybe he wasn’t there, I think as I drift to sleep.
The smell of bacon and eggs wakes me from my fetal position on the hard tile. My stomach, once again, registering its protest. Rising, my hair is matted with vomit on one side, my mouth tastes of crap and I’m sure my breath is rancid. Kohl once again appears in the room.
“Come on, Tennie Girl, you need to eat,” he encourages reaching for me.
“No, don’t touch me. I’m nasty,” I say finally noticing my clothing or my lack of clothing. “Shit, Kohl. I’m not dressed. Go. I’ll take a shower and be out in a bit.”
Once he’s gone, I ease myself off the floor and stand in the hot stream of the shower. Washing away the vestiges of the night before. Feeling somewhat refreshed, I finish, wrapping my hair in a towel and putting on my robe hanging on the back of the door.
The smell of coffee lures me from the confines of this safe room where I don’t have to face the fact that I may have thrown myself at my best friend and was rejected. It’s time to face the music, I think opening the door, seeing Kohl holding the red potion bottle in his hand.
Raising his twinkling eyes to me he asks, “Are you keeping a little genie in here? If I rub it, will a little half naked woman pop out?”
Grabbing the bottle, I move to the cup of coffee he has waiting for me, placing my everyday dose of two drops in the cup. “It’s a magic potion,” I state setting the bottle back on the desk next to the other bottle. Humming in pleasure when the warm liquid hits my battered throat.
“A magic potion?” he asks raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean it’s a magic potion?”
I explain the gypsy woman and the little shop. Giving him each detail about believing and how it supposed to work.
“You believe all that?” he asks, rocking back on his heels with his hands in his back pockets.
“I didn’t at first, but the more I thought about it, the more I thought ‘why the hell not’. Believing in magic couldn’t hurt. Dr. P says a simple belief in something can have a tremendous physical effect in restoring control over certain situations. Believing puts the power back in my hands. Since I started the potion I have become friends with you, became fit and lost some weight and I’m feeling more secure in my own skin. Whether the potion is actual magic or not, the effects are the same. My belief in it has changed my life, it has made feel beautiful, strong and determined.”
Clasping my face in his hands he peers into my eyes. His blue orbs beaming warmth into me, “You are irresistible, Ten. Your beauty is not all on the outside. There is so much more to you than an appealing face. You’re sweet, kind and off the charts smart. Your heart is the size of Texas and you love with all of it. You smile and make everyone smile with you. It’s always been there. But if that potion makes you feel everything I see, what I have seen from the beginning; you use all you want.”
Pulling from his grasp to stop the heat creeping along my skin, I have to know if last night was real or my overactive brain, “How long have you been here? Did you get in this morning?”
* * *
Kohl
My brain screams at me to lie. She doesn’t remember last night and I’m not certain I should tell her. Judging by the mortification on her face, she’s not ready for the truth, yet.
“Yes, I came in early this morning to bring you your Christmas present,” I lie.
Her shoulders relax, she takes a deep breath and smiles, “A present? You got me a present?”
“Of course,” I reply pulling the envelope from my back pocket and handing it to her.
Turning the envelope over in her hand, “What is it?”
“Open it and see, silly girl.”
She meticulously slides her finger under the seal of the envelope. Pulling open the pouch and peeking inside. Crinkling her brow, she pulls out the card inside, reading it out loud.
“Mirage Custom Made Dresses. This entitles you to one custom made Mirage gown of your choosing.”
“You got me a dress?” she asks, a tear trickling down her cheek.
When I asked her to be my date for New Year’s my plan was to hang out in one of our rooms then she asked me to go with her to the Mayor’s party. I had no idea what to get Ten for Christma
s, I didn’t want to get her something lame and now she worked at the coffee shop so it shot my gift card idea in the ass. I did what any man would do when in need of gift ideas. I asked her best friend and roommate. If anyone knew what she would want it would be Ronnie.
Ronnie told me how Ten hates to shop and she would never buy a dress for the party. She recommended a dress shop in town and I scraped all my money together so Tensanne Craig will feel like a princess and the happiness on her face makes it worth every penny spent.
Wiping her tear with my finger, I pull her into my chest. Her head resting right below my chin, I inhale the citrus scent of her hair deep into my lungs, “A custom, made to only fit, Tensanne dress. But this dress is for Ronnie’s New Year’s Eve bash, so you need to get to the dress shop as soon as possible to get it started. The lady assured me they could have it done in time.”
She pulls from me and I miss her warmth. “I have something for you, too,” she sings going to her desk, pulling a small gold box with a huge red bow on top, out of the top drawer and handing it to me. “I know you’re going to love this.”
I shake the box; it makes no sound. Bouncing back and forth on her feet, her excitement palpable. “Open it, already,” she pleads. Making me wonder what she could have gotten me that would bring her this much excitement. Deciding to torture her a little bit longer, I take my time pulling the tab on one side of the bow, slowly releasing it from the box. Easing the lid open on one end, she picks up on what I’m doing, exclaiming, “Get it open already, man.” Laughing I lift the lid the rest of the way off, immediately recognizing the yellow and blue logo on the small slips of card stock paper.
“No way,” I whisper, “Indiana Pacer tickets?”
Pulling them from the envelope a small slip of blue and yellow paper falls out, lofting to the floor. “You’re going to want to see that sheet, too,” she lilts with a smile lighting all the way to her sweet chocolate eyes. Bending I pick up the slip, reading the words,
