As I took another mouthful of my Indian Pale Ale, the delicious amber fluid coated my throat, delivering an intense flavour that was remarkably moorish, the brunette with the long legs across the table from me continued to speak about something that i would inevitably just agree with her on too make her believe that i cared when really all that mattered to me was that burning question. Its complexities ran through my mind creating a restlessness that i just could not shake. "Which end of this bottle would i fuck her with tonight?"
I have always been attracted to women, ever since the first time I smelt that sweet aroma of perfume, I knew the smell and the women wearing it aroused me. It was the same for the sweet taste of beer, ironically after countless ales i would find myself waking in unknown locations with unknown strange men sometimes named Linden who happened to be wearing the same sweet perfume, but that's another story in itself...
My Billionaire father had passed away after he had paid a doctor who shall remain anonymous to attach him to an intravenous drip filled whit his favourite Coopers Stout and a catheter to save him needing to leave his room to use the toilet, occasionally snacking on handfuls of wasabi peas. As he sat in a drunken haze in front of his 50" 3D television watching an endless cycle of episodes of 'Glee' before he died in a pool of his own dark brown vomit dotted with undigested peas. Alcohol poisoning the coroner boasted but I knew the truth, subjection to that many episodes of Glee in 1080p high definition 3D, suffocating under the ruin of so many beloved songs in blaring Dolby 7.2 surround sound would kill anybody, it was so fucking obvious.
Never the less the cause of his death didn't alter the fact that as his only living heir I inherited his entire fortune. I had been unemployed with no prospects, my days filled with lusts of the sexual and alcoholic varieties, however I would now have the means to begin a life altering quest to fulfil my every desire creating a world of my own where beer and sex would become one, intertwined and indistinguishable.
Psychiatrists say that in case of serial killers there is usually a defining moment during their child hood that pushes them over the edge, from that point on dictating the direction that their lives take. This for me was also relevant, I have often pondered on the moment in my childhood that caused my twisted fascination for beer and sex, Cunt and Corona, Murphy's Irish red whilst getting head or any of the other pet names that i had conceived for it. Leaving my christian school that fateful day in year five i came home to find my mother hanging completely naked upside down by her ankles from my monkey bars in the backyard, while my dad filled her pussy with long necks of VB before drinking them from her pussy chalice, each time yelling "the beer doesn't come with head like this down the local." As i watched from my kitchen window my innocence was gone, this has to be the reason my mind is so twisted but also the reason I really hate the taste of VB.
When I grew older I wondered if beer was a general part of sexual intimacy, but i just shrugged it off, yet the thought always lingered growing in strength and persuasion. Until the moment when I received my inheritance I couldn't answer it, but now i must know can beer and sex become one? If red wine is paired with red meat and if Champagne can be savoured with fine caviar than surely there must be form of brew that combined with pussy creates something more, a higher experience. Soon I will know does a porter go with anal sex, do lager's help tame the labia's or do Bitters get the bitches. If a can or a bottle can carry the fine fluid then why should i not a warm an ale in a vagina or a create a wort beneath a sphincter.
Every barmaid has her price and if this is true than I have to believe that with an above award permanent part time rate there is a barmaid or barmaids out there that will be willing to serve as a personal beer wench and object of sexual desire, objecting to nothing and asking no questions. Not even "do you want another beer?" That is irrelevant because bitch even if i pass out you better wake me up with cock to mouth resuscitation and a cold beer in my hand. There must be a willing female out there and now with the Internet I'm sure my journey will be one of success, it has become apparent to me that the net is useful for three things, watching porn reading "The Beer Diaries" and creating an army of slave maids. Now all i need is to buy a mansion where we can all live in perfect harmony, where every question can be answered.
I now feel that my life has meaning and I will finally be able to get answers to the big questions, the sun shines bright in the sky now and the sky is no longer Fifty Shades of Grey.
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