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He leans down and spreads my lips with the swipe of his tongue so I open for him. He exhales a plume of smoke into my mouth, forcefully puffing out my cheeks. Laughing, we break apart as I sputter
and cough swatting his chest.
“Reefer Madness?”
“And I quote,” he widens his eyes. “‘Marijuana, the burning weed with its roots in hell!’” I giggle as he leans in and slowly starts to unbutton my shirt, “Smoking the soul-destroying reefer,” he drawls, pushing away the fabric to reveal my flesh before running his knuckles along my skin. “They find a moment’s pleasure,” he murmurs softly, before lowering to kiss the swell of my breasts.
Under his spell, I tangle my fingers in his hair just as he inches his fingers along my sides. “But at a terrible price!” The boom of his voice has me jumping before his fingers dig into me and I laugh hysterically, swatting him away as he shouts in his best preacher man imitation. “‘Debauchery! Violence! Murder! Suicide!’”
His fingers continue to tickle me as I twist to free myself. “Stop, Sean, I’m going to pee my pants.”
He stops and leans in close, his eyes tick-tocking back and forth erratically. “And the ultimate end of the marijuana addict…” he holds up a finger in a ‘wait for it’ gesture, “hopeless insanity.”
“You’re kidding, right? Violence, Murder, Suicide?”
“Don’t forget debauchery. And no, I’m not kidding, look it up,” he runs his fingers through my hair. “Nineteen thirty-eight. Complete and utter bullshit and the masses bought into it. All because the greedy fuckers couldn’t figure out how to tax it and control the distribution, they outlawed it. Now all these years later, they’re using it to relieve people of pain, stop seizures, to help treat incurable disorders with just the plant itself without the THC. And the mental effects for some can be just as healing as popping a more harmful pill. Can you imagine where we would be or how far we would have come since nineteen fucking thirty-eight if those assholes hadn’t ganged up on a plant? Instead, they taught us it was wrong, because some people decided it was and told us it was, and the law-abiding folk went along with it and preached to others it was wrong. And here we are after decades of it being outlawed and it’s suddenly safe for medical and medicinal purposes?” He shakes his head in disgust. “Did you ever hear that story about that guy who got stoned before he went and committed mass murder?”
“No.”
“Yeah, me neither. And I doubt anyone else has either because the odds are not fucking likely. We have to be careful about who we listen to.”
“You’re a one-man revolution. Is there anything about this country you do like?”
“The scenery,” he exhales, lifting my bra and running a warm hand over my breast. “Peaks and valleys,” he slides his palm over my stomach. “The oceans surrounding it.”
I get lost in the workings of his hands and frown when he pauses.
“I mean, the idea of America is great, the execution not so much. But we’re still a young country. There’s still hope for us.”
“I like the way you quack,” I say honestly. And I do. I love that he challenges me, makes me think.
“I like your quack too, baby,” he dips and kisses me soundly.
“You know,” I take the joint. “You would make an amazing politician. Too bad you’re addicted to the burning weed with the roots in hell.”
He tilts his head, his eyes lit by his lantern. “A politician?”
“You’ve got my vote.”
“Your vote,” he bounces his head back and forth, mulling it over. “Yeah, well, I don’t want to be a politician.”
“Why?”
“I’d rather be part of the solution.”
“That’s a shame. I was just thinking of all the dirty things I would do to you if you wore a suit.”
“Ah,” he hangs his head, “so she wants a suit guy.”
“No, I want you, guy.”
I can feel his smile against my chest. “That so?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Well,” he nestles between my legs and sucks my nipple into his mouth, speaking around the peaked flesh. “I’m going to have to make you work for it.”
My breath hitches as I speak. “Don’t you always?”
