White Claw Lies (a song)

Lyrics by Bud Koenemund
Music (to be determined)

For Jenna

I can’t help but answer when she calls.
I know what she wants, but I can’t resist;
she begs, and pleads to come over,
and my ever hopeful heart will insist.
I’ll enjoy the trace of watermelon
still lingering on her soft lips,
and the intoxicating way that demon
drink makes her swing those hips.

[Chorus] Her coming here throws gas on embers that never burned out;
               But, I can’t blame her. We both know it’s my flaw;
               Re-igniting flames that’ll only warm one of us.
               No, it ain’t the whiskey I’m singing about;
               it’s not beer, gin, or even that damned tequila;
               it’s her White Claw lies that’ll leave me a mess.

I don’t know how many she’s had, but
she’ll be mine again, for a little while.
I oughta say no; be strong and save myself,
but my strength fades every time I see that smile.
There’s no doubt it’s a mistake to let her in.
But, her arms wrap around me as she floats through the door,
and, in an instant, I’m all hers again
before her pretty sundress even hits the floor.

[Chorus]

She’ll fulfill the promises she made on the street;
driving me wild, and messin’ up my sheets.
But, momentary happiness only leads to sorrow
when, it’s no surprise, she’s gone tomorrow.
She’ll slip away before the sun comes up;
leaving me all alone, and beggin’,
knowing I shouldn’t have believed her,
after those White Claw lies fooled me again.

[Chorus]

I can’t help but answer when she calls…

Spaghetti

By Bud Koenemund

  The question hung in the air long enough for him to know her answer would be a lie.
  “No,” Amy said, finally.
  The right corner of his mouth curved up, just a millimeter.
  “Never?” he challenged. “Not even all the times you two went on vacation together, and got drunk every night?”
  More silence. He waited.
  “Well…” she began. “Once, in Cabo – we were both buzzed – I woke up during the night, and May was between my legs, eating me out.”
  “What did you do?” he asked.
  “What do you mean?” she returned.
  “Did you tell her to stop?” he pressed.
  “N… no,” she admitted.
  “Then you liked it?” he observed.
  “No,” she objected, a little too vehemently.
  “Then, why didn’t you stop her?” he charged.
  Her gaze fell to the floor.
  “Because, I wanted to cum,” she whispered.
  “So, you liked it,” he stated.
  “I mean… in the moment,” she allowed. “Yes.”
  He tried to reply, but she interrupted.
  “I’m straight,” she blurted. “I would never do that sober.”
  “What you do drunk is what your subconscious wants,” he countered.
  She didn’t protest. A soft knock drew their attention to the door. A moment later, May entered the room.

Addict

By Bud Koenemund

A 100 Word Story

For Demi.

  He’ll tell you that he has recovered. That he’s clean and sober. That it’s been 10 years since his last relapse. And, he’ll admit that’s all a lie. He knows that he’s an addict. He will always be an addict. The desire; the craving; the itch never goes away. He can feel it creeping in the dark corners of his mind. No matter how long he’s been clean, the temptation doesn’t fade – will never fade completely. He fights battles every day – sometimes every minute. Most he wins; some he loses. But, the next day, he gets up to fight again.