There's a wonderful feeling tequila gives you when you drink the right amount of the right kind. The sensation of soaring never leaves you through all your elated sighs and incessant giggling. Warmth seems your flow through making your body feel boundless and vibrant. It's evident in every step you take as your feet overlap causing your hips to protrude from their natural stance, as if you're traipsing down a runway. It's a constant hum that vibrates through you and inevitably becomes evident to everyone around you as you beam with liquid confidence.
This sweet spot, the one that can turn any ordinary or terrible night into a form of self celebration, can only truly be found in ranges between cheapest-of-cheap and slightly-over-the-line-expensive bottles, five shots after "I think I might be starting to feel something" and two shots before "Gee, that seems like a good idea" (which is never a good idea whilst drinking).
Sophie Midler is blissfully unaware of this subtle rule. Newly arrived in London she sits in a pub, alone on the twenty-fifth birthday, eying a crumpled piece of paper clutched carefully in her hand. This carefree buoyant sweet spot is what she hopes for as she closes her eyes tight and takes back another shot of tequila. Her attention caught suddenly by the couple sitting next to her.
"Honestly, who wears deer hunters these days?" One woman giggles.
"I think my grandfather still has one." Her girlfriend replied. "Though I always imagined private detectives walking around with a giant spy glass and a pipe. And definitely more suave." She snorted into her drink and her girlfriend stifled a drunken giggle.
"How would you know if he's suave or not you can't tell that by looking at his portrait!"
"No, I met him! Didn't I tell you? At the office yesterday he interrogated everyone on my level over some scandal or other. Well, interrogated, more like called out! If he's right then nearly half of my office has some form of addiction while the other half are off having affairs. Daft.."
"Did he call you out?"
"..he might have." She mumbled.
"Then maybe this detective isn't so daft after all!"
"He-"
"S'rry!" Sophie interrupted ungracefully, standing and putting her hand on one woman's shoulder for support attempting to act as sober as possible. "Did you say something about a detective?" Both women nodded silently. "Do you know where his officeice? I mean, is?"
"I don't know about an office, love, but most people find him over on Baker Street. 221B."
"Than you." Sophie pushed herself off the woman and out the door slowly feeling the warmth of the tequila making it's way down her body and towards her toes, her walk becoming a strut and she made her way towards a free taxi.
The taxi ride from the pub to 221B wasn't that long but it was long enough for her body to take the next step. The tequila had turned to liquid fire inside her, every cell of her body deliciously burning at every movement. The sensation of her shirt dragging across her breasts as she turned had her instantly and painfully aroused. Her hand numbly began to claw at the collar of her shirt as her back arched forward. Biting her lip to keep from moaning she quickly came to her senses enough to pay the driver and run up to the door.
She lifted her hand to knock when she immediately noticed the door was ajar and pushed it open without a second thought. It wasn't difficult to figure out which one was the detectives apartment after that. The one up the stairs with the door wide open and the seemingly organized clutter all about.
Once again inviting herself in, drunkenly singing a loud "helloooo?" as she entered, she went straight to perusing the wall of books.
"Anybody home?" she called out, picking up some books to examine, tracing the binding of others, feeling their texture with her fingertips. Slowly she made her way to the mantel over the fire, poking at boxes and other odd objects, getting lost in the sensations under the fingers. Her skin began to burn again, her nipples painfully yet deliciously hard, each step making her feel bold and sensual.
Scanning the apartment quickly she sat in the closest chair in the front of the fire, facing the kitchen. The crumpled piece of paper falling unnoticed to the floor, she moved her hand into her bra, a sigh of contentment falling from her lips as she caressed herself. Quickly she moved her other hand into her jeans, pushing aside the lace material of her panties to finally quench the arousal that had been building the last hour. Her breath came in short gasps as she worked her fingers, her free hand roaming across her body, pinching and pulling her aching skin. Making no attempt to quiet her cries as she reached her release, her body shuddering and curling further into the chair. Through the accompanying relaxation the exhaustion of the day crept, her eyes falling heavy as the chair seemed to be more and more comfortable.
"I just need a nap.." She thought. "Seems like a good idea."