There’s something about the way you smell when you’ve had a couple beers.

I’m not talking about Bud Light.  The smell of a rich, dark stout emanating from your pores, lingering on your breath, just makes me want to jump you.  You’ve had a few beers tonight, and there’s no way I’m going to be able to keep my hands off of you for long.  Kissing you, tasting remnants of the alcohol on your lips and your tongue, is intoxicating to me.  The thought of this makes me drunk with lust.  If I’ve been drinking too, even better.

When we were first dating, we used to go to McGovern’s every weekend and talk about our lives, our families, our pasts, our goals and our dreams, all over a couple pints of Guinness.  I remember the excitement when you told me that Guinness was your favorite beer.  When I told my Dad, he said you sounded like a good man, someone to hold onto.  I love Guinness, I told you one night while we sat in our usual booth, but this is nothing like the Guinness you get in Ireland.  You said you had always wanted to visit Ireland, and I told you about the trip I took to visit my sister while she was studying in Dublin.

Two weeks after we started dating I brought you to my student teacher’s birthday party at the same pub.  The two of you got along well, and although you didn’t tell me that night, I knew you wanted to fuck her.  You came home with me and fucked me instead.  It was the first time that you told me that I was the best you’d ever had.  It was the first time that I noticed the way your body smelled after a couple pints.  Afterwards, we lay in each other’s arms, our bodies bathed in sweat.  You broke the stillness and the silence when you said that the barman really knew how to pour a Guinness.

Remember the Manhattan Beach Brewing Company?  I ordered a Hefeweizen, and you ordered a chocolate stout.  I took the lemon wedge off of the rim of my glass and seductively licked the suds off of it while I made eyes at you.  We caught that waiter with the big sideburns staring and we laughed.  Later we walked the Strand, then took off our shoes and walked barefoot through the surf.  When the sun went down, we sat in the sand and watched it dip below the horizon.  I wanted sex, and the thought of making love on the beach made me wet.  We waited until we got back to the car.

Once again, you are very gambrinous tonight.  I can smell traces of the beers you’ve imbibed, and now I’m going to have my way with you.

-Jill