Sipping Cider Through A Straw Lyrics Novels & Stories

“If you want me listening to a speech, give me something to drink first. My throat feels like a freeway after a riot.” He moved without a word, grabbing the water bottle already waiting on the bedside table. Of course it was already there. Plastic cup, straw. He slipped a hand under my neck, lifting me slightly, bringing the straw to my lips. “Slow,” he whispered. “I’m not a baby,” I complained, even as my mouth latched onto the straw. Cold water hit my tongue. My brain lit a candle of gratitude. I drank, three sips, four, until my chest loosened.

Never have I read the book of etiquette on how to drink wine through a straw, but smooth and mellow, it does the trick, easing my dry throat, settling warm in my stomach. "Drink some more. Let the alcohol work. I want you calm." Humour ripples through the words. "You're going to need it." Oh, God… I don't try to answer, simply sucking hard, gulping down the wine until… "That's enough. I want you chilled out, not unconscious." … and the straw leaves my lips. My throat is no longer dry, and my pussy flows freely. A movement of the mattress under me, a weight settling beside me. The warmth of a hand on my butt. The plug moves, pushing at me, pressing in. Once, twice, thrice…

After the way last night ended and how we woke up, I don’t know if I can deal with anything. Well, anything except maybe… I glance over the drink selections offered. There are a lot of options but the one that draws my attention the most is a traditional apple cider that can be hard to get in the States. I loved it when I was in Spain: cool and crisp, with just enough bite to make me feel like I’m getting buzzed in an apple orchard. “I was actually thinking of getting some sidra. It’s a traditional cider,” I explain, unsure as to whether or not Winter’s ever heard of it.

Strip for a penny Claire is a girl desperate for means to make some money, with her new stripping job that became more do you think she might finally find what she's looking for! Claire's P.O.V. I took a sip of the champagne. It was light and delicious, and she resisted the temptation to drain it in one go. The warm flow of the wine warmed it's way up through her body, relaxing her as she took a few deep breaths. Liquid courage they say. The music playing in the background was very seductive and she found herself swaying to the rhythm.

The light of the sinking sun turned the buildings pink and caught the remaining autumn leaves on fire, blazing shades of russet, burgundy and gold. I heard a pop and the sound of pouring liquid behind me. Jeff had produced a bottle from his satchel, and was filling two champagne flutes. When I looked at him apprehensively, he smiled. "Sparkling cider," he assured me. I relaxed. He had remembered my no-alcohol rule. "Come and sit." I joined him at the table, and he fed me a slice of pear with Brie. "A toast," he suggested. I fumbled for my glass, clinked it against his. "To new beginnings."

It tasted fantastic. Olivia got sick of my shit and snatched my club soda out of my grasp. She took the straw between her lips and sucked up the entire soda, draining it to the dregs. "Great, your distraction is gone." She huffed, passing the glass back to me, ice clicking in the glass. "Now talk!"

Jay and Angeline came to the stage, and as the host held onto the microphone, they recited the lyrics of Red Spider Lily in a cadence. “You and I, hand in hand, walking through the suburbs. Together through our ups and downs. You’re my boundless scenery and my fallen dust. “If you’re passing through the staircase to the netherworld, I’ll be right there waiting for you. If you cannot make it, pick a Red Spider Lily and I’ll come to you.

"How is it?" I heard Sterly ask. I quickly swallowed down the drink in my mouth and made a pretentious smack. "It's too sour." I lied. Would that make him change the drink? With the thought in mind, I swigged the whole juice inside the cup and waved the empty cup before him. 'See, I'm done!' Sterly collected the empty cup and dropped it. His fingers moved around the tray, and my eyes moved along. I clasped my head and stretched my hand, excitedly waiting for him to pick the champagne on the tray, which was my favorite...

His thumb rested against the side of my jaw. One sip. Two. The water pushed the capsule down. It didn’t hurt. It only left behind a faint bitterness that quickly disappeared. I took a third sip, then bit down on the straw. Zach tried to pull the glass away. But I didn’t let go. His eyes dropped to my mouth. “Let go.” I bit harder. He pulled slowly. The straw slipped from between my teeth with a small, undignified sound. Zach set the glass down. I licked a drop of water from my lower lip, then looked at him with all the hatred a half-paralyzed body could gather.

He rushed downstairs and suddenly threw himself toward Amanda, who was holding the long straw, pretending to fall. And in that instant, the straw snapped completely in half.